Revelations: Haunting Ground
by The Lady Frost
Summary: A girl. Two boys. Three friends. A castle with a nasty man. And a nightmare they never saw coming. The biggest Revelation here...is how she'll stand between them...and choose. Revelations AU - another romp in a familiar world...with an unfamiliar twist.
1. Haunting Ground: 1

**Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt**

* * *

 ** _Chapter One: In Which We Meet A Girl With No Friends– And A Boy with No Hope -And A Boy with No Tact_**

The police car was there again. Again.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd come home from school and not been afraid to see it. It was the colors that haunted her dreams. Blue and Red. Blue and Red. Blue and Red.

The colors of pain. The colors of loss. The colors of justice.

Something that meant it was time, again, for her to leave behind whatever little hole she was living in and go to another group home. This time it was to find her mother in handcuffs as they dragged her from the house. She was shouting and kicking. She was half naked. Her tank top was falling off her skinny torso, her nose was burst blood vessels and red…and bleeding.

Bleeding.

Because she'd snorted too much coke. She'd put her nose to too much blow and eradicated her septum. When she was wasn't spreading her legs for the money to pay for it, she was hanging with whatever pseudo lover she was currently letting slap her around trying to score more.

Noriko Ashiro had been a dancer once. The ballet. She'd been beautiful. She'd been swanlike. There were photos in the living room of her in Swan Lake. In the Nutcracker. Giselle. She was celestial. She was statuesque. She'd danced her way into the arms of the handsome, successful, and shallow Girard Valentin (Valentine by English distinction). Girard was French. He was all drama, all romance, all passion and excitement.

They'd travel and spend lavish amounts of money. He was involved in so many illegal things. But Noriko hadn't known. She'd loved him – madly, deeply, completely. Even when he'd started hitting her. She'd kept on loving him.

And she was so beautiful. Tall and lithe, graceful and pure. Blue eyes and black hair that swirled around her like a brilliant jet cape as she twirled. She'd birthed their beautiful daughter – Jillian. She'd been back on the stage four weeks later. She was dedicated and brilliant and loving. She'd spilled joy around her like magic.

As a little girl, Jill had spun in her little white tights and tutu, hoping for the day she could dance her way into the clouds beside her mama.

And then Noriko had stopped dancing.

One day, Jill had come home to find her on the floor in their little house in Greenwich Village in a pool of blood. Slit wrists and crying. Red in a dripping, dropping, dragging trail from the kitchen to the living room.

Noriko had set in the blood and cried, "When your heart dies, Jillian, when it dies…you must die with it…"

And Jill had known that her father was gone. He'd finally left. Or he'd just never come back.

But Noriko was inconsolable.

The cops had come for the first time. The paramedics. The flashing lights.

They'd taken her away for the first time to the group home. Noriko had gone away for awhile for suicide watch. Jill had gone to a foster home.

It wasn't so bad. That family had been kind. They'd wanted to adopt her.

But Noriko had come to get her. And she'd gone home, happy to be with her mama again.

The bills piled up. Girard would pay nothing. He'd divorced Noriko and left her penniless. He was lost somewhere in the wind. And the money ran out.

They moved. They moved again. Noriko had three jobs. She started disappearing at night and leaving Jill alone until morning. Eight years old and alone all night in a tiny apartment in the Bronx.

She'd come home with men. She'd come home high. Her face red, her nose red, her eyes red. She lost weight, her lithe frame was skeletal. Her hair was limp and strawlike. She started shouting and breaking things. She was always mad.

And the cops came again. She was in the street with some man slapping and screaming. They were both high. They were both bleeding.

The cops took Jill away again.

Another group home. This time no foster home. She was there for three months.

And Noriko came again to get her.

"It will be better, my bug, better."

It was never better.

It was ok for awhile. Noriko worked at a gas station. She danced again, in a the local ballet. It was ok. She dated a nice man.

And then the fighting had started.

Screaming in the night. Throwing things. The slapping, the breaking things. The fire. She set his car on fire. He caught her sniffing coke in the kitchen on the cutting board where she made their dinner.

He left.

Noriko was gone for three days.

Jill lived on peanut butter sandwiches. She lived on cheese. When the food ran out, she started to learn how to pick locks with a barrette and a bobby pin. She snuck into other apartments when they left to scrounge for food. She was ashamed…but she was starving.

She had one pair of shoes that she mended with duct tape when it separated from its sole. She had to wash her clothes in the sink. She stopped waiting for Noriko to love her again.

And they shut off the water one day. So Jill started washing herself in gas station bathrooms.

Noriko didn't come back. The cops came again. She was in the hospital. Overdose.

And Jill went to another home.

She was sixteen. She was sixteen and lonely. She was a string bean with dark hair that curled around her skinny face. Puberty hadn't been her best friend. She had a little run of acne and braces. The state home put the awful metal ones on her because her teeth were crooked.

She had pigtails and acne and skinny knees.

She would never be a dancer. She stopped crying at some point. She couldn't remember when. But she had just…stopped. It was easier to figure out how to fix your problems when you didn't cry. Crying was for babies.

And she couldn't the last time she'd been a baby.

Jill Valentine was sixteen and spending another month in a group home in the Big Apple. She figured it could be worse. She knew how to pick locks, she had taught herself how to throw a punch, she was scrappy and snarky and strong. She didn't need any damn friends.

So she avoided the other kids.

And she was so lonely it was palpable.

She wondered if she'd ever make a friend. Or if anyone would ever look over and be happy to see her. Or she'd ever find her place in the world.

She kicked her feet in the patch of dirty snow beneath her…and didn't shed a tear.

* * *

The morning of his birthday, he woke up feeling pretty good.

He was fourteen. So that was halfway to being a grown up. His friend at school had just had his bar mitzvah. Which meant you were growing into a man.

He glanced at himself in the dirty mirror of the bathroom. He saw big blue eyes and freckles and zits. He didn't see a man.

The shouting was starting.

Which meant the old man was awake and looking for a drink.

And it meant his hopes for a quiet birthday were dashed.

He dressed quickly, wincing. His back was still welted from the lashes the old man had thrown at him last night. It was worse when he was drinking. He started crying and blubbering and snotting and staring at pictures of his dead mother. He started shouting.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU CAME OUT OF HER AND KILLED HER! SHE WAS MY WORLD!"

And the old man would start hitting him.

They said he'd been a pretty successful cop once. A nice guy. Friendly and funny. Funny? He'd never heard the old man make a joke. Not in fourteen years.

The old man cried a lot. He slapped a lot. Sometimes it was lit cigarettes on the back of the arms when he was really wasted. But usually it was the belt.

The belt.

Someday he was going to come back here and take the belt to the old man.

And he wouldn't get up again.

He was a cop. So no one ever came.

No one ever bothered.

Until the morning of his fourteenth birthday. Because the old man chased him out into the street screaming. He chased him bellowing and shrieking. "YOU STOLE MY CIGS! GIVE 'EM BACK YOU LITTLE SHIT! YOU LITTLE FUCKER! I'M GONNA STICK MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS!"

He'd stolen the old man's cigs. Yep. Why not? It was his birthday. And he wanted one.

He ran across the street. He ducked into the alley.

He started to get into the dumpster where he hid when the bullies at school chased him.

And he heard it.

A squeal of tires. A blaring horn. A thunk. A shout. Another shout. And then? Someone SCREAMING.

And the wail of the siren.

The old man had gone to the hospital.

And he'd gone to a group home.

He kept the cigarettes tucked in his coat. And spent his birthday sleeping in a room with four other boys. Not a sleepover. Not a party.

A moratorium. And the beginning of the rest of his life.

* * *

She heard the fighting.

The shouting.

She glanced up and across the yard.

The home was an old Victorian. It was peeling yellow paint and a big porch. It was a ratty little yard with a swing set and a see-saw. In the winter of 1990, it was also covered in snow. Upper New York had seen copious amounts of the white stuff that winter. It was a blizzard for weeks.

It was tampering back now but the piles of it remained like chilly white pockets of dingy gray mess. It meant hats and gloves and sweaters. She had big mittens on her hands and a sock hat on her head the color of piss.

She hated yellow.

Ugly color.

Her gloves were red.

And she hated that too. The color of blood. Blood and snow. Blood and coke. Blood and Noriko. She hated it all.

The fighting drew her eye.

Some fat kid getting slapped around by three bigger ones. He kept throwing up his hands like he'd hit back. They kept kicking him around. He was pudgy and kinda short. He had a floppy mop of strawberry blonde hair. His round little face was dusted with freckles and zits. He wore glasses coke bottle thick and taped together in two places.

They knocked his books out of his hand. She saw them land in a pile of snow. And the biggest of the bunch kicked him right into the mound on his butt.

Laughter.

Jill rose…and rolled her neck.

She wanted to be a cop. She'd decided that the day they'd taken her from Noriko for the last time. Officer Debra Morgan had made jokes. She'd been tall and blonde and pretty. And tough. So tough. She killed bad guys and saved the day. She visited Jill every day.

She was no bullshit.

She had a badge and a gun and POWER. She was a cop.

It sounded pretty fucking good.

Cops helped people. So Jill? She went on over to help the fat kid with the mop of hair.

The biggest bully was named Justin. He was seventeen and thought he was tough. He kept yelling about how he was getting out soon. When he turned eighteen, he was gonna "blow this shit show".

Jill could hardly wait.

He beat up on anything smaller than him.

Jill yelled, "Hey! Leave him alone, you fucking monkey!"

Because Justin looked like a monkey. Hairy and tall. Ugly. With a big flat face. A gorilla.

Justin turned to sneer at her. "Shut up, bean pole. Who asked you? Take your brace face and get the fuck outta here. Who asked you anyways?"

Jill sighed dramatically. The fat kid was getting to his feet. He was searching in the snow for his glasses.

And Jill said, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

And made the three bullies laugh.

The smallest one, Ernie, let out a hoot. "You better get outta here, Valentine! We ain't got no problem decking a girl!"

And the tall skinny one, Ben, laughed, "Yeah! Bitches get stitches!"

Jill lifted a brow at them. "Oh yeah? Who first then?"

Ben and Ernie glanced at Justin.

Justin said, "You better beat it, braceface. Or you'll join your fat faced friend over here on your ass. Unless….maybe you'd LIKE that! Maybe this fat tub of lard is your LOVER. YOUR BOYFRIEND?!"

Ernie was laughing like a donkey. "HUBBA HUBBA."

Ben chortled, "Beanpole and Fatty sitting in a tree. Beanpole yelled – You're too fat, get off of me!" It was singsong.

And stupid.

Because they were all so stupid.

Jill said, "That wasn't pretty clever, Ben. You're so smart. I bet it only took you until the fourth grade to learn how to TIE YOUR SHOES."

She glanced at his feet. His shoes?

Not tied.

And now SHE laughed. "I stand corrected."

Ben swung first. Jill ducked and it went over her head.

She planted her foot, drove from her hip, and decked him right in the face.

He went down shouting into the dirty snow.

The fat kid stopped and blinked. Ernie turned and shoved him over into the snow again. Jill called, "Stop letting them push you around!'

And Justin ran at her.

She waited, he came like a charging bull, and Jill jumped right just as he got to her. She grabbed his dirty jacket and his hair and kept on helping him go. She threw him out behind her. He yelped and went onto his face, sliding over the dirty wet ground.

Ernie turned back to push the fat kid again and Jill shouted, "PLANT YOUR FOOT, BALL YOUR FIST, AND SWING!"

And the kid did it. Ernie grabbed for him and the kid threw down his foot, twisted his hips, and put a full on straight right into that ferrety face. It was a GOOD hit. The kid had some power in those fat arms.

Ernie went OVER like he'd been smacked in the face by a plate. Ben grabbed for the fat kid and the kid spun and smacked him in the schnoze with his trapper keeper. It was some pretty good improvisation. The kid was fast on his feet when he put his mind to it.

Justin grabbed for her from the ground. Jill turned and kicked him right in the balls.

She swung her foot back and just…went for it.

Justin screamed like a girl. Ernie and Ben were bleeding and running. It was mayhem. They took off cursing and shouting. Justin was limping and crying and grabbing his junk.

A GOOD DAY.

Jill was laughing so hard.

She stepped up and helped the fat kid pick up his fallen books. He was shorter then her. But she was pretty tall and skinny. And he had a pudgy baby face. But she liked his smile. Good teeth. She was jealous of how straight and white they were.

She said, "I'm Jill Valentine."

"I think you're my best friend." And he laughed. It was a GREAT laugh. Kinda dorky and cute. He kept looking at her like she had the sun coming out of her ass. Which was a totally cool feeling. "You made them your BITCH."

"Me? You did that, dude. I just helped put the gorilla back in his cage."

They sat down on the swings now. The cold air had turned his pudgy little face pink. She figured under all that puppy fat, he was probably a nice looking kid.

He said, "It's my birthday. Shittiest birthday EVER. You know?"

"Yeah. I hear ya. Mine too."

"No shit!?"

"No shit."

"Well…hell…birthday buddies huh?"

Jill grinned a little. "Looks that way. You get any cool gifts?"

"Nah. I'm thinking of having a statue of you made though by a sculptor. Care to "chip" in?"

Jill froze. She blinked. He was grinning. So, the pudgy faced kid was funny. He was punny. He was pretty rad. Jill started laughing.

"That was AWFUL."

Pink faced, he chuckled and shrugged. "I do that. Sometimes."

"'You pun?"

"When the spirit moves me. You don't?"

"I actually do. Often. I would tell you a pun about floating…but it wouldn't go down too well."

They locked eyes. She liked his behind those big fat glasses. Pretty blue. Hers were blue too. But he had thick eyelashes. And the blue was swirly and mixed with gray. Hers were dark. And ugly.

He didn't think so. He thought her eyes were beautiful. He thought SHE was beautiful.

He said, "Thanks for telling me how to throw a punch."

"Dude, you smacked the shit outta those guys. I just gave you the bones to build it."

"You think maybe we can help each other out while we're here? You know, advice and teamwork or whatever?"

"You mean like…be friends?"

They held eyes in the cold snowy air.

He said, "Yeah. I could use one. I don't know about you, but I don't exactly got them growin on trees."

And both grinned.

Jill said, "Yeah. I think that would be ok."

"Cool."

He was trying to put his books back in his pack. His gloved fingers kept slipping on the wet books. She considered and said, "Hey…look here."

She pulled her little knife and took his glove off his hand. She cut the finger tips off. Curious, he let her.

She said, "Helps with traction, yeah? Keeps your hands warm but lets you have some grip."

"Oh, shit. Thanks."

"You bet."

The bell was sounding for dinner.

They both stood up. The kid grabbed his pack from the ground and tossed it on his back. He started toward the house. Jill called, "Hey!"

He turned back, "Yeah?"

"What's your name again?"

"Oh. Oh yeah. It's Leon…Leon Kennedy."

Jill grinned, "You ain't serious right?"

"Yep. Why?"

Dude. Dumbest name EVER. That's an old man name."

And so Jill made her first real friend. And it was a little less lonely in the house.

They spent the winter together in that group home.

He taught her how to do algebra. The kid was fucking smart as hell. Like genius dork smart. He was good with numbers and history and shit. Jill taught him to fight. She taught him to fix stuff. She was a WIZARD with a hammer. If there was a way to make something work, Jill took it apart and put it together until she found it.

Leon was pretty fat, so he wasn't really fast. But he started giving it his best shot. They ran around a lot and rode bikes when the home let them. He was also CLUMSY. He was always falling down. And falling over. He was the worst person alive on staying on his feet.

They played Dungeons and Dragons and cards. Jill was so good at cards. She beat him everytime. He suspected she was cheating but he didn't care.

They joked.

And joked.

AND JOKED.

Kennedy was so funny. He never stopped joking. He was all good humor and laughter. He punned about the weather and the world. He watched the news A LOT. He knew shit. He had some kind of interesting fact to tell you about almost everything.

They built a club house in the woods behind the group home. He planned it. He drew the design. They talked about it. And Jill built it.

Teamwork.

They were good at it.

They left notes when the other couldn't get there for some reason. They'd pin it to the tree.

The first one she found said:

 _J-_

 _If you get there before I do – don't give up on me…_

 _I'll meet you when my chores are through – I don't how long I'll be._

 _But I'm not gonna let you down – just you wait and see._

 _And between now and then? Until I get there? Try not to blow up too much shit._

 _-L_

Jill laughed and kept the note.

Jill showed him how to use a knife one afternoon. He was nervous about it. But she convinced him that fists might not always be an option. She was a ninja!

He watched her slice and stab. She said, "Some of it was TV, ya know? I watched this old Kung Fu movie when I got here. This dude with a knife? He just TORE IT UP. So, I stole this from Justin's bag one night…and just started copying the moves."

Jill was always stealing stuff. It was probably bad. But he didn't care about that either. She only took stuff from assholes and bad people. And she usually gave it to people that needed it anyway.

He got there first one evening. And her note was stuck to the tree for him.

 _L-_

 _If you get there before I do – don't give up on me._

 _I'll meet you when my chores are through – I don't know how long I'll be._

 _But I'm not gonna let you down – just you wait and see._

 _But between now and then? Until I get there? Try not to break a leg!_

 _-J_

She tried to teach him to pick a lock one afternoon but he was kinda hopeless.

However, when she stole Ernie's BB gun one day and they ran off with cans into the woods, she figured out where his magic was.

The second she passed him that BB gun – his face lit up. He turned on those cans and started shooting. He was pretty damn good. He hit four outta five on the first try.

"WHOA!"

"I know!"

"In those big fucking glasses too!"

Leon grinned, wide and happy. "Right? But you know what?"

"What?"

"I just calculated the wind and the resistance factor plus made some corrections for distance and the angle of my arms…and BOOM. It's MATH."

It was all math to this kid. She kinda loved him.

They had peanut butter sandwiches and practiced kicking and punching. She rolled a lot. He tried but fell over a lot and huffed. He was pretty fat.

And she kinda loved that too.

Jill liked to blow stuff up. She was always making bombs in cans. They'd set them off and run around laughing. She was able to make bombs out of the weirdest shit.

They talked about their families. They were having chips and hotdogs one day in the warm Spring air. They were sitting in their clubhouse and looking at nudey magazines they'd stolen from Justin's bag.

And laughing.

Jill said, "This girl has a TEARDROP on her bajingo!"

Leon chortled, "What?"

"You know! Her COOCH. Her crotch."

"Oh." Leon leaned over and looked at it. "It's bare! I didn't think girls were bare when they were all grown up."

Jill laughed and slapped his arm. "They aren't, Kennedy, you goof. She SHAVES it clearly."

"Oh. Haha! Shit. Why? Is the hair itchy?"

"Mine isn't." Jill shrugged. "You don't have hair on your junk or what?"

"I do. But I'm a dude."

"So?"

"Dudes are hairy."

She glanced at him. He wasn't hairy. He was just floppy reddish hair and grins. His arm hair was pale. She didn't see hairy. She laughed and said, "You think her bajingo is sad though?"

"Maybe. How do you make a bajingo happy though?"

"I dunno. Kiss it maybe."

And Leon blushed. He was so fucking cute. He blushed. Jill chuckled and shoulder bumped him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

Jill said, "I'm gonna be a cop someday."

She set the magazine down. She leaned on the wall. And she shared one of his stolen smokes with him. They were SO careful on smoking them. There were so few. And they only did it at night when they snuck out.

Leon nodded, "Me too. My old man was the WORST cop. I'm gonna be a GREAT one. You know? A hero."

She laughed a little. "Oh yeah? Because all cops are heroes."

"Oh, but I am. I'm gonna save the world. You just watch and see."

She grinned at him. "I believe ya. I do. Me? I just want to kick asses and take names. Maybe I'll join the service first or something. You know? Like jump out of planes and stuff. That could be cool."

"Oh, yeah? I don't know. I like the idea of just being a cop forever! I could see that as being the best fucking job. All guns and killing bad guys. Saving people. Could be cool. Just keeping them out of the dark, ya know?"

Kennedy hated the dark. The dark meant his Dad and the belt. It meant being alone and afraid. He wasn't AFRAID of the DARK exactly. He just didn't want to be in it…ever. He slept with a flashlight. She got it. She slept with her knife.

Jill nodded a little. "Yeah. For fucking sure. You'll be a great cop, Kennedy. Seriously. Like…you'll do more in one day then some cops do in like fifty years, ya know? Kill a thousand bad guys and put a thousand more in jail. Maybe you'll be like Magnum P.I. or MacGuyer. Maybe you'll like uncover a conspiracy and hunt down the bad guys…you'll have a big showdown and save the girl."

Leon chuckled. "In one day?"

"Why not? Life is weird."

"For real."

"And then like…you become a hero right? You start kicking asses and taking names. Maybe we could do it together. Like a team. Like Hawaii 5.0."

"Oh shit shit! Or Lethal Weapon. But you're Murtaugh."

"Pfft. I'm Riggs."

"You kidding? You aren't funny enough."

And now they laughed. They were always laughing.

Jill said, "It doesn't matter anyway right? Wherever we go…it's better then what we left behind."

"You bet. Don't look back right?"

"Right. You just trip on what's in front of you and fall on your face."

"Fuck yeah."

He saved up money he found and started mowing grass for spare bucks. Jill went around stealing it from the other shitty kids in the home.

On their birthday the following winter, they surprised each other with gifts.

He gave her a pocket knife with her name inscribed on it. It was a Swiss Army knife. He said, "You can pick locks with it AND kill people! You'll be like the master of it!"

"The master of unlocking?"

And they laughed.

It felt really good to have someone in her life that liked to laugh. That made stupid puns and didn't make things weird. That bought her a little knife and helped her kick the asses of bullies.

A friend. Maybe the first real one she'd ever had.

And she loved it.

She gave him a Zippo lighter. She'd bought it at the gas station down the road. It had a star on it. He looked at her and she said, "No more dark right? Not anymore."

It was totally great to have a friend.

And then Noriko came for her.

She was seventeen. She was old enough to be on her OWN. But she wasn't really. Not quite. Not yet.

She saw her show up. She had a new husband. She was "clean". She was apologetic. She was full of SHIT.

Jill ran from the home and into the woods. She climbed into the tree house.

And he came up after her.

She never cried.

But she was now.

She threw her arms around him. She clung. She whispered, "I don't want to go."

And Leon hugged her so tight. He said, "It's ok. Remember, don't look back right? What happens when we look back?"

And Jill sniffed and hiccupped a little, "We trip and fall on our face."

"That's right. Don't look back, Jill. Go jump outta airplanes. And don't fall on your face."

Jill laughed a little, wetly. She leaned back. He was so short. She had to bend down.

And she kissed him.

His face turned beet red. He barely breathed. She leaned back and petted his floppy hair. She said, "You're my best friend, Leon Kennedy."

And he squeaked a little, "You're the only friend, I ever really had Jill."

She climbed down the ladder. They stood in the woods in the warm summer.

And she said, "Keep that lighter right? No more dark."

"No more dark. Keep that knife. Remember…you keep unlocking doors? Eventually you'll walk through the right one."

Jill grabbed his hands, she squeezed. "I hope you're a big hero cop, Leon Kennedy. I hope you save a thousand people and get the girl and kill all the bad guys."

He sniffled. He nodded a little. "I hope you unlock a thousand doors, Jill. And kick a thousand asses. And blow up a thousand bad guys."

They hugged once more.

Jill backed up. She swiped her hands over her cheeks. "I'm gonna miss you, Riggs."

And Leon wiped his face too. "Me too…Murtaugh."

Jill whispered, "I'll come back. Maybe I'll come back."

"Yeah. Maybe. Maybe you will."

She said, "If you get there before I do…don't give up on me."

He laughed a little, wetly, "I'm not gonna let you down…just you wait and see."

"I'll miss you."

And she ran off into the woods without looking back.

Never look back…it's how you tripped and landed on your face.

But at the edge of the woods?

She kinda looked back anyway. And for that moment?

The whole revolved around one boy…and one girl.

And he whispered, "I'll miss you, too."

* * *

The summer of 1995, Jill Valentine was fresh out of Delta Force – where she'd been known for her demolitions expertise – and preparing herself to climb THE WALL.

The Wall was the climbing portion of the recruit obstacle course.

The police academy was mostly an old boys club. It was guys and sexist remarks and a lot of eye rolling. But she'd come from the army. She was immune.

She'd been a dude with tits in her unit.

She was a dude with tits in the academy.

Her long hair was in a sloppy ponytail. Her long legs were poking out the bottom of the navy shorts they issued. The gray shirt with the academy logo emblazed on the breast pocket was snug and tied in a thick knot at her waist. It left parts of her little flat belly bare.

The skinny knees and coltish string bean looks had blossomed into a curvy butt and hips that required strict diet and exercise to keep from turning into a buxom gal. The missing breasts of her youth had EXPLODED after she'd hit eighteen. She was all big boobs in a sports bra now, to her annoyance. Her body liked to be hourglass…which was fine…but it meant working out like mad to keep herself fit enough to fight.

The braces were gone, the acne having long fled and left a smooth porcelain countenance in its place. The face was pretty – girl next door – and graced with a fringe of feather dark bangs and pretty thick eyelashes. The robin's egg blue of her eyes were studying the wall now – trying to find a way to the top.

She'd fallen twice. She needed to get up the fucking thing. It was her Moby Dick. It was her classic nemesis. She was going to DESTROY it.

From behind her, a voice said: "I don't think staring at it will make it relent."

She looked over her shoulder.

Redfield.

Nice guy. All big teeth and smiles. Tall and kind skinny. He stepped up next to her.

She knew a lot about him. He was ACES with a pistol. He was funny. He liked stirring up enough trouble to get the evil stink eye on him. He was pranking the shit outta people and getting admonished all the time.

He did NOT like authority. She knew he'd left the service himself over it.

Nice face – gold skin and big blue eyes the color of the ocean. He had the start of a pretty rockin five o'clock shadow at 8 a.m. And long arms graced with big shoulders. He could pack on muscle if he wanted. But he was pretty lean.

She figured he was six one at least. He kind towered over her as they stood together looking at the wall.

Chris Redfield? He liked her face. Good face. Pretty without trying or being obvious. A little dip in that chin made for a thumb. A big bottom lip asking to be nibbled on.

He liked her.

She wasn't interested in anyone. Ever. She was almost cold. She joked, sure, and she was friendly enough. But she froze dudes at twenty paces when they even THOUGHT about trying to hit on her. She liked him though. Because he didn't bother.

He just slung shit at her like she was a guy.

So, she said, tongue in cheek, "I could take your route…and punch it."

Running joke.

He was so volatile. He punched everything he came across. He just got pissed when he couldn't figure it out and -pop- right in the face. He punched the wall. He punched the table when he couldn't get his pistol assembled fast enough. He punched his locker one afternoon when he couldn't get it open.

She'd come up behind him, reached around him, and picked the lock on it.

Deadpan, she'd lifted a brow at him, "Try brains before fists, big guy."

He kinda liked her.

Drolly, Chris mused, "Possibly. But to what purpose? Will punching it make it drop down so you can get your bubbly butt up to the top? Unlikely."

Jill pursed her lips, considering, "Hmm. Probably. But then again?"

She took a running step at the wall.

He watched her and she sprang up. Her determination was unparalleled. It was all hands and feet and fighting.

Amused, he ran to the wall and went up beside her.

They picked their way up. She watched his arms bunch and coil. It was a nice show.

About two thirds of the way up, he watched hers start shaking. She was flagging. She was going to drop. It was a long way down.

And Jill?

She HATED falling.

He watched her slip, watched her dangle. She cursed loudly with her sailor's mouth.

His hand shot out, it caught her flailing hand. Without looking at her, Chris jerked her arm and kinda…launched her. He launched her, just a little, up about two feet. She grabbed the wall and stuck like a burr.

He didn't look at her, he just kept on climbing.

Jill smirked a little. She grabbed the next protrusion and kept on going too.

She made it a few more feet and started falling again. Her foot slipped. She slung sideways.

He grabbed her belt and tossed her up again.

She said nothing, she just grabbed the wall and kept on going.

He reached the top first. He rose and looked down at her. No judgment. No jokes. He kept on standing there, just watching her.

She was three feet from the top. Her arms were shaking SO BAD. She reached, she missed, she went right and tried to hang on. She grappled, missed, and started to go backward.

He just put his hand down to her.

And she grabbed it.

A smack of palms. A slap of skin.

He didn't propel her. He didn't pull. He just held on.

She found her footing. She grabbed the wall.

She kept his hand in hers and finished climbing.

At the top, breathing and blowing hard, she slapped her thigh and hooted. She slapped his arm and did a little jig. She pulled him into it with her. Although he was AWFUL at dancing.

He kinda dug her.

And then?

She hugged him.

She put an arm around his waist and squeezed. "Redfield, you are a real pal. Beer?"

"Speakin my language, kid."

Buddies. Pals. Because he didn't let her fall.

They hung out. She was feisty and funny. She was all kinds of weird. She talked about the likelihood of aliens on Earth. She was OBSESSED with Dungeons and Dragons.

She liked playing darts. He was better.

She was better at cards.

They went up the wall again.

She only needed him to put his hand down to her once.

They ran the obstacle course with guns and vests. She was pretty good at finding cover with weird shit. Him?

ALL about kicking in doors.

He kicked them in, he cleared, he shot. He NEVER missed.

They didn't have time for boys or girls and romance. Stupid shit like that? Seriously. They got beers and hid in the quad getting drunk after simulations.

She drank him under the table and poured him into his dorm room laughing.

He talked a lot about his parents. They'd died when he was barely eighteen. His baby sister, too young for being alone, had become his.

Jill paused in mid swing. He was talking as they were rolling and fighting on the mat one day.

She paused in mid-swing, he caught her arm, and he slung her up. She went over his shoulder, rolled down his back and between his legs, grabbed his big thighs and JERKED. He went onto his back, Jill hooked a leg over his hips, and she pinned him.

Amused, he lay on his back, breathing heavy.

She leaned over him, sweaty. "You adopted your kid sister?"

"Yep."

"At EIGHTEEN."

"Yep."

"…ugh."

His face split into a big grin. "Not usually the first reaction."

"You boyscout. Really? Who does that?"

"A person with integrity. Clearly."

"Clearly." Jill offered him a hand up. He rose, getting his water bottle. They shared, eyeing each other.

Chris said, "I was in the Air Force. I was making ok money. She needed me. I signed some papers and we got an apartment. It kept her in school. She was twelve. It was the only thing I could do. I got temporary leave and we got her set up with a care taker while I was away. They reassigned me to a pine pony job as a pilot. Sucked. But it kept me stateside to take care of her."

"She's sixteen now?"

"Yup. And a good kid. Only gets in shit trouble occasionally. She smoked some weed and ran around some for a bit there. But she figured it out ok."

Jill watched his face. She laughed a little. "I'm kinda crushin on you a little, Redfield."

He grinned, amused. "Yeah?"

"Sure. You fucking boyscout. For a pansy ass wimp, you're a good dude."

"God damn, Valentine. That's like a big hug with words."

They never really used first names. It was all last names and good times. She felt like he was kinda her brother or something. It was good stuff.

She'd never had a brother.

They went up the wall again. He didn't have to pull her up at all.

She reached the top and did the jig. He did some kind of a weird wiggle walk and had her dying with laughter. And it was a good hug that time. All arms and squeezing.

Jill was such a good girl. Her superiors loved her. She did all the right things and said the right things and was patient and friendly.

Chris put his tongue in his cheek and gave her shit, "You're a brown noser, Valentine. How's that shit smell?"

"Like roses, Redfield. You should know since you're a pain in my ASS."

She was always doing that…making puns. It was cute. And kinda dumb. He liked it.

He got wasted as hell after they graduated the academy and picked a fight in a bar with some rednecks over a game of pool. Jill helped him whip some ass in the alley. She was his best friend.

She poked him into his bed with a roll of her eyes.

"Get it together, Redfield. You're gonna get yourself in a fucking mess one of these days."

"Pfft. I'm BULLETPROOF. I will just punch the mess in the face."

He was something else.

"You think you can just force the world to your will all the time?"

"Why not?"

"You can't just take what you want and punch the rest of it in the face, Redfield. It don't work that way."

"Fuck it. Only live once right? Regrets for assholes and pussies. I figure…grab it and punch it in the face. Looking back on what you lost out on? For losers with no balls."

Looking back got you nothing. Just falling flat on your face.

It wasn't the first time she'd thought about that kid in the years since she'd been in the home. She'd gone looking for him a few times. But a name and a group home in New York was like a needle in a haystack.

Amused, Jill shook her head. "You never look back?"

"Nope. Back gets you nothing but pain, kid. Forget it. Fuck it. And move on."

What a big liar. His parents were behind him. And he missed them all the time.

But he was full of shit and kinda great. Her buddy. So she patted his face.

"Get some sleep, tough guy. You graduated, punched some face tonight, had some drinks, lost at pool. Not a bad day."

"If I'd got some ass, it'd be perfect."

"Four outta five ain't bad, my friend."

"Night ain't over yet."

"Oh, yeah? You gonna get some ass from Johnson when he gets back here? He's kinda girly looking. So maybe he's your type."

She poked his blankets around him and patted his face. "Not Johnson."

He grabbed her wrist and spilled her down on him.

She blinked, opened her mouth to crack a joke, and he put his tongue in her mouth.

He rolled her to her back beneath him. He was all lips and tongue. She made a sound and her hands came up. She thought how stupid it was to have thought of him like a brother.

His hands were on under her skirt. It was denim and paired with cowboy boots. She felt her head spin. His fingers poked around her panties, sliding and gripping.

Jill gasped, and he popped his mouth off hers.

He found her over her panties. His fingers slid under them. She was shaking. She was excited. She kissed his ear.

And then?

He started snoring.

Jill froze. He was snoring in her ear.

Her mouth twitched. She shook her head. Her arms curled over his back and patted.

And she laughed. What a drunken doofus.

She rolled out from under him and left him snoring in his bed.

He was her pal. And such a goof. He probably wouldn't even remember the kissing or the groping. And it just made her laugh to think of it.

Amused, she keyed herself into her room.

Annette, her room mate, said, "Hey girl. Good night?"

"Sure."

"You look like somebody tossled you good. Redfield?"

"HAH. No. Just a fought a couple of drunks in the street. You?"

Annette shifted. A pretty girl with red hair and big eyes. "No luck. Tried to get laid. Failed. But somebody dropped by for you."

Jill lifted her brows and set her purse on her bed. "Yeah?"

"Yep. He left that." She gestured to desk. The desk had all kinds of stupid girl shit on it. Bobbleheads and pens with fluffy poofs on them, perfume, notebooks with shiny covers, and pictures of friends and pets.

And a letter.

Just a little folded letter.

Jill picked it up, curious, "Who left it?"

"Uh…tall guy? Blonde? BIG blue eyes." Annette – cop – sorta bad with descriptions. "Rookie, clearly. Just starting out here. I told him it was our last night. He looked kinda sad. But then he wrote that. You know some rookies?"

"Not off the top of my head." Jill perched on the desk. She opened the letter.

And nearly died.

 _J-_

 _If you get there before I do – don't give up on me._

 _I'll meet you when my trainings through – I don't know how long I'll be._

 _But I'm not gonna let you down – just you wait and see._

 _Between now and then? Until I see you? Don't blow up too much shit._

 _P.S. I still have the lighter._

 _-L_

Her hand slapped to her collarbone. She laughed. Her eyes sprang with tears. She said, excitedly, "How long ago was this!?"

"I dunno. A couple hours? Why?"

Jill opened the door to the room. She raced down the hallway. She hurried over the campus laughing.

She hurried up the stairs to the Raccoon Hall – the dorm for the rookies just coming on.

But the new class wasn't in yet. Not yet. It was empty.

And so she moved to the desk where the Resident Advisor was getting his shit ready. She said, "I need to leave a note. Is that ok?"

"Sure? Why not. For who?"

"New recruit. Kennedy?"

"Sure? Whatever."

Jill wrote quickly, laughing. She wrote:

 _L-_

 _I took a job in Raccoon City. Special Tactics and Rescue. I'm kinda a BIG deal._

 _If you get there before I do – don't give up on me._

 _I'll meet you when your trainings through – I don't know how long that'll be._

 _But between now and then, until I see you again? Try not to fall off that wall too much. How in the hell could YOU possibly have passed the obstacle course!?_

 _P.S. I still have the knife._

 _-J_

She left him the note. And she hurried back to her room, laughing.

In the morning, Chris helped her load up her gear onto the bus to Raccoon City. He shifted a little and said, "Ok…so…maybe I owe you an apology."

Jill, amused, looked at his face. "How so?"

"I groped you."

Oh. This was too good. Fucking boyscout. He was going to apologize for feeling her up. She kinda loved it.

"Mmm. You pig. I should smack the shit outta you."

Chris grinned a little. "No hard feelings?"

"You kidding? It was a kiss, Redfield. Not rape. It wasn't too bad…your breath though? Awful."

And they laughed, climbing onto the bus. They settled into a seat together.

She watched him disappear a quarter. He sure did like stupid magic tricks. She looked out the window as the bus rolled off to the main road.

And wondered about Leon Kennedy.

Chris said, "Watch this."

And he popped a flower out of his hand for her. She smirked, impressed. He winked at her.

She put her head on his shoulder as they hummed down the highway toward the future. It felt really good to have someone in her life that just got her. That made her laugh and did stupid magic tricks. And didn't make things weird.

That helped her kick the asses of bullies.

A friend. A real one.

The second one she'd ever really had.

And for a moment?

The whole world revolved around one boy…and one girl.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_

 _So, we see that I've crafted the start of one of my slightly AU worlds where I can weave the slender ties that bind. If you've ever read my stuff (silver scorpion_ _😉) or haven't really ever…you know I gravitate toward romance and action. I also enjoy revamping a familiar game with a different feel._

 _To tie it together, it needs to be slightly out of canon timeline wise (Raccoon City of course being the base with both Kennedy and Redfield pursuing Jill)._

 _On a side note: A million years ago, Capcom put out this game (loosely tied to both Resident Evil and The Clock Tower series) called HAUNTING GROUND. It had scrapped Resident Evil 4 elements. The main character – is Jill Valentine's blonde spitting image in RE5. So, I thought: this is where I want to take Jill in this story. Revelations is always a side story, in a way, so is this. I'm going to play her around in some semblance of a world like that with zombies and bioterrorism (o_0?)_

 _Potentially. But I need to think about it a little longer. And I need to build the love here between her and the boys that bind her. PLEASE shoot me a PM or review and let me know what you think. I have used so many readers views on my stories so far. I am BLIND, I use your eyes to guide me._

 _Love it, hate it, leave it. AND THANK YOU._

 _Slainte._

 _-TLF_

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANY ONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 **Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: In Which We Find A Girl Who's a Sandwich– Between two Boys (...she wishes)**

* * *

In the Summer of 1997, the blistering heat of Raccoon City was a living thing.

A wet blanket, it was thrown over the city with a reckless glee. People milled in streets where hydrants were "cracked" and sprayed kids with whipping fingers of cold water. The park was over run with those under shady trees and enjoying barbecues and cold beers. Dogs caught frisbees, pretty girls wore bikini tops and tiny shorts, and the world wavered with the humidity that hung around like a bad date.

Raccoon City was a typical mid-western American town. It was down the I-65 corridor from Indianapolis, Indiana. It was nothing fancy. At all. You might over look it if you weren't working there. It was the backdoor to the American dream. Simple, quaint, virginal almost in its simplicity; Raccoon revealed gothic revival architecture and innovative public transit that spread from the San Francisco style railway system above ground to the first of its kind subway beneath the streets.

The Umbrella Pharmaceutical Company had dumped TONS into its development. They were the life blood of the Midwest it seemed. The generation of jobs had the city BOOMING. The rapid influx of warm bodies accompanying the economic flourishment meant a steady flow of cash to keep the city operating at maximum efficiency.

The Clock Tower in the center of the park was an architectural marvel. It had been listed in various magazines after the conception and design by Ozwell Spencer. It was lovely and the perfect center piece to a pearl of a pastural focal point that spread pretty and perfectly groomed around it. It was local flora and fauna, pretty Kentucky Bluegrass, and avid sight seers.

It was also a great place to go running.

Jill and Chris ran there every morning between 4 and 6 a.m. It was insane to get up that early but the job took them out and left them in the ringer from sun up to sun down. Most days, conditioning the body was crammed in wherever they could get it.

They were sharing a small apartment together on Bacon Ave. The mystery of Bacon Avenue was simple and a source of comedic license: there was no bacon there. In fact? It was a street lined with Vegan restaurants. So, there was no meat of any kind. Irony, thy name was Bacon.

They didn't eat at any of the joints on Bacon Ave. They went two streets over to Umbrella Pharm Drive and enjoyed chicken wings and beers at J's Bar. Often times, Jill played wing man.

Chris was terrible at picking up chics.

Awful.

He opened his mouth and the stuff that came out that had girls either A: Offended (which was sad because Chris was a TOTAL gentlemen) or B: Too amused to be interested (foot in the mouth was a Chris Redfield special).

Most days, Jill had to step in and explain to prospective dates for him that he was so sweet, charming, etc. ONCE you got passed the crunchy exterior. Uptight had new meaning when you were Chris Redfield. He didn't chill out enough unless you poked him in his tight ass with a pool cue and made him.

But he was her best friend. He was aces. He was always picking her up when her bike broke down and calling her to fix shit at the apartment because the super couldn't care less. She so happy to have a pal that she let him get by with being an ass pain about leaving the fridge door hanging wide open or forgetting to clean up the bathroom after he got back from a run so it smelled like sweaty boy balls.

He was always having to duck around the living room when she was playing video games. Her obsession with Silent Hill was a constant mystery. She was constantly telling him how it could happen. And how he'd be Pyramid Head.

He was pretty sure SHE'D be Pyramid Head. But he kept that to himself.

She didn't really go on dates. She wasn't interested. She was always busy at work. She was the goody two shoes of the RPD. Everyone loved Jill. She played the game so well that you BELIEVED she was happy to help you.

Chris? He mostly fell asleep at his desk on Tuesdays. He kicked everyone's ass on the gun range. EVERYONE. He spent a half hour every morning in the john with a newspaper and a cup of coffee. He liked to leave in the middle of a briefing to go work out. He was THE FIRST ONE through a door during trouble. Bravest goddamn guy she'd ever seen. But LAZY.

Holy hell he was lazy.

He HATED paperwork. Bitched and moaned about it. He would whine until Jill would do it for him to shut him up. His hand writing was horrid. AWFUL. So bad. It was chicken scratch with loops. It was terrible. He'd fall asleep at his desk during reports. Jill would repay him for her services by making him drive her around town to shop.

Chris HATED shopping. He hated it. She made him do it three times a week at the open air farm stands and the flea markets she loved. She'd repurpose furniture and strip wood and make him help. Oh, he liked using the tools. He was a guy after all. Until he nearly took off his foot one day trying to pretend he was the Texas Chainsaw Murderer.

He didn't try to kiss her again. Which meant that drunken debacle had been a fluke. She was ok with that. She liked Chris, she was pretty sure he would be good in bed, but it was no big deal if they never went there. What if he was lazy? He was SO LAZY. She didn't want him flopping on her and taking a nap.

No.

Haha.

He didn't like to run either. He was so tall and gangly. He LOVED fighting the punching bag and lifting weights. He wasn't much on cardio. He used the rowing machine and was happy to hit the Bowflex.

Jill? She was a runner. She ran. All the time. She liked to bike in the mountains on the weekend, usually alone, since Chris wasn't into it. She hiked and climbed and went fishing. Chris loved fishing. But he fell asleep half the time in his chair.

Chris hiked like he fought: all determination and force.

He hiked like he was going to punch it in the face.

He was her best friend.

Jill ran through the center of the park, heaving and sweating. It was barely five a.m. Chris was still at home sleeping. She'd nudged him with her foot at a quarter to five. He'd muttered and rolled away.

Amused, she'd let him sleep.

She eased over to the bench by the clock tower. Gripping the back, she started stretching.

The pound of feet signaled she was about to witness another morning runner. Amused, she pulled her ankle up to her butt and sipped her water, feeling the stretch in her hips and thighs. The first person to run by was a pretty girl with a bouncy blonde ponytail.

She ran by and waved. Jill waved back.

The second was a fat little guy with glasses.

He waved and Jill…had a moment to wonder. She called, "Leon?"

And the fat little guy was already running down the path with his headphones tucked in his ears. She sighed and laughed at herself a little.

Stupid to think he'd be that little fat kid she'd loved so much all those years ago.

Stupid.

It's been what? Seven years?

He was like…twenty one or something now.

Surely, he was taller at least.

Jill picked up her water bottle and the path curved to show another runner. She watched up him run up the walk, veer in a little, and stop at the bench.

Her first thought was: …yum.

Her second thought was: ….well, still yum.

Shirtless, in some kind of blue shorts that were meant to make you stare at his…legs, he grabbed the bench to stretch. The Walkman strapped to him was poked over his ears.

He was sweaty. But he glistened. He was lean and honed. As he breathed, his ridiculous tummy showed each etched inch. The arms were perfectly muscled on his wide shoulders. The face?

It was insane. All blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. The line of jaw and the blade of nose met the blue of his eyes and summed up a pretty package. His hair was shaggy and tucked behind his sweaty ears. The headphones tucked into his ears were small and adorable.

This close, she could see a fine dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The freckles said somebody was probably a natural redhead. Mom? Dad? You usually got that coloring from the horse's mouth.

Jill must have been staring or something because he tugged one ear phone out and grinned at her. He was blowing pretty hard from the run. The sweat kept pooling in the hollow of his throat. "Hi. Good mornin for a run huh?"

The voice fit. Breathy but deep, it complimented the face it came from.

Jill smirked a little. "It just got a little better, I think."

He laughed and winked.

He winked.

Cocky little thing. She actually found it kind of charming.

And he returned, "Definitely. I don't usually run eight miles and then meet up with beautiful women...but what the hell right? First time for everything."

Yeah, cocky. Jill laughed herself.

She paced away from the bench and turned back to look at him again. "I see the RPD logo on your shorts. You new?"

"Yep. Rookie."

"Ouch. Rough road to be the bottom of the food chain. Good luck with it."

"Thanks...you work there?"

"I do. S.T.A.R.S."

"Oh, shit," He bowed and had her laughing with delight, "RPD royalty right? Want me to kiss your ass while I'm bowing?"

An interesting image.

Jill grinned, wide. "I'm thinkin about it." She paced to the path again, "Nice seeing you, rookie. Hopefully I "run" into you again."

And she was off, down her path.

Behind her? The rookie stood by the bench chortling. He loved nothing more than a good pun.

The next three mornings?

They both somehow ended up at that bench at the same time.

Some people might call that luck. Or happenstance. Or chance.

Jill? She called it planning.

The third morning, Chris ran with her. He bitched about it but he ran. They reached the bench and he flopped down on it, dangling his long legs and huffing out air. "Valentine, do you know anything about slowing down? Shit. I'm about to choke on my own lungs here."

Jill rolled her eyes, stretching. She kept her eyes on the path.

There went the old man with the beard. And then along came two pretty girls in soft pink shorts giggling and shoving each other. She pulled a nice hamstring stretch while Chris kept on gnashing his teeth, "I mean...it's like four fifty in the morning. It's so early even the roosters aren't up yet. It's so early that I haven't even popped morning wood yet. It's so early it's still yesterday. Why are we running!?"

Jill slapped his sweaty stomach over the ragged shirt he wore. It snapped and had him shouting. She laughed.

"Man up, Redfield. Sheesh. With all the nachos you scarfed down last night? You don't run, you'll be fatter than Marlon Brando in a few months. You'll look like the Stay Puft Marshmellow man."

Chris chuckled.

Jill bent down to tie her shoe and he delivered a loud, painful smack to her bottom.

She yelped and nearly fell over.

"There. Even stevens. Fight fair, Valentine. You smack me? I smack back."

"That's sexual harassment, Redfield."

"Isn't. Nope. I didn't grope you. I responded to your very clear physical assault."

"Pffft. You wanted to touch my ass."

Chris grinned, eyes twinkling. "Maybe. So, two birds, one stone."

"Perv." But she laughed and jogged down to the path. She figured if hottie hairdo the sexy rookie was coming, he'd have been there by now. She jogged out and left Chris behind to piss and moan about how much hated running.

She was hitting her stride when the little fat man showed up on her radar again.

Curious if she was right, she pushed herself to chase him. She was ten steps back and hollered, "Leon? Leon Kennedy!?"

And nearly peed her pants because someone shouted back, "Yeah!?"

But it wasn't the fat little man running ahead of her.

It was the hottie hairdo running up behind her.

Jill turned back, blinked, tripped and went down onto her butt. Plop. Right into the mud. It sloughed up around her shorts and squelched. What were they always saying? What did looking back get you?

And yet? She'd turned right around and looked.

He probably didn't own a shirt. Since he wasn't wearing one again. He ran up on her and knelt, hands on hers to pull her up. She laughed, shaking her head, and got to her feet.

He pulled out his ear phones. "Somebody shouted for me over here. You see anybody else?"

Nope.

NOT POSSIBLE.

The ugly duckling syndrome was true, no lie there. But this was just stupid. Ridiculous. Dumb. Like finding out you had a third nipple or that aliens were coming to take over the world. Stupid. And made no sense.

But she laughed a little and said, "Depends on what your name is."

Curious, he grinned at her. "Leon Kennedy. Why?"

Yep. Stupid.

Her little fat buddy with the coke bottle glasses, round belly, and short stature was now a six-foot one strawberry blonde wet dream with perfect teeth. The teeth were still perfect. Apparently so was the rest of him now. Damn him.

So, Jill laughed. She just laughed. And she said, "Dude, dumbest name ever. That's an old man's name."

He studied her face. She saw it land, catch fire, and spill out of his perfect mouth on a delighted sound. She had a moment to decide how she wanted to play this and she figured...yep.

So, she turned and he moved in to hug her. His arms looped around her, he pulled her nice and snug to his sweaty front like it was nothing, her brain exploded inside her skull and left her half stupid and blind, and she curled her arms around his neck and shoulders in her return.

It was, without a doubt, the best reception she'd ever received from another person. She tried to think of the last time anyone, ever, had been so happy to see her. She was drawing a blank. Chris, maybe, when she'd broken him out of trash duty one afternoon to kick his ass on the mat instead.

Maybe.

Kennedy? Plucked her right off her feet to hug her and kind of...took her breath away. Which, was stupid, as he wasn't squeezing that hard. Stupid. And true.

Meanwhile, they couldn't stop laughing. And once they started? They couldn't stop talking either.

They poured over the top of each other cutting loose. It was verbal diarrhea and laughter. Admittedly, he might have set her down, but neither noticed he hadn't.

It was all:

 _Where have you been?_

 _And what were the odds of this happening?_

 _And how many foster homes did you hit before you were done?_

And finally?

Jill said, "I would have NEVER recognized you. Ever. What HAPPENED to you!?"

Not in the least offended, Leon hugged her tight against him again. Happy, Jill put her head on his shoulder. She could feel his chest rumble when he spoke.

"Well, puberty. And then a growth spurt. Followed by a pair of contacts and kicking my own ass. What about you?"

Jill sighed, happy to stay right there in his sweaty embrace. But she returned, "Hmm? Oh, the acne? Or the braces? Or the bean pole?"

"Did you have those? I don't remember any of that."

"Pfft. Liar."

"No. Not really. I remember you were beautiful. I just can't believe you could possibly be MORE so. But turns out? Yep."

Oh, he was something.

She lifted her head to look at him. No grinning. No twinkling eyes. He was serious.

"...you kidding?"

"About what?"

"I was so ugly it was insane. Knobbly knees and food stuck in my braces. Beautiful? Who you kidding here, Kennedy?"

He finally set her down. Jill, was not thrilled with this, but allowed it. It was rather stupid to hold on to someone like that for long periods of time. What did she think? He'd disappear if she let go of him?

Maybe.

A little.

His hands touched her face. He turned it up to him and his thumb swept over the little cleft there. And then his eyes started twinkling at her. Hell, she thought, he was something to look at alright.

"You were beautiful, Jill. Always. Tall and strong and determined. I'd never met anybody like you in my whole life. Somebody who wanted to be my friend? You kidding? I was the kid with the glasses and the Dungeon and Dragons obsession whose Dad was always showing up wasted and embarassing him. I wasn't prime friend material. And yet here came this girl with big blue eyes and the best laugh I'd ever heard and taught me to fight and be myself."

Jill was enraptured. She was enthralled. She stood there staring at him like an owl.

"How could you be anything other than beautiful to me? You changed my life."

And she answered, "Same. The SAME. I feel the same. Entirely. I cannot BELIEVE that you followed me here."

"Too stalkerish?"

"You kidding?! I HOPED you would. I left that note. I looked all over for you when I finally got out from under Noriko. But nobody knew a damn thing."

So, maybe it looked funny to Chris when he finally came around the corner. It looked a little weird. Jill and some dude standing in the early dawn and touching each other's faces. She kept touching his eyebrows and his mouth. He was using his thumb to sweep her chin.

Weird.

It was interesting that he didn't much like the sight of it.

Interesting.

He liked Jill. But he hadn't put much thought into her as a girl. Which, sounded kind of asinine since clearly, she WAS a girl, but in his defense, she didn't act like one. She didn't whine and flirt and throw giggles. She just laughed at bad jokes and liked to play baseball. She had a rockin ass, part bubble, part heart, but noticing it was more habit then actual interest.

Finally, the dude with her laughed. Well, it was more like a snort or something. Utter dorkfish laughter. Jill lapped it up, though, clearly.

Chris moved up toward them as she said, "Tell me you are staying here. Right here."

"Hadn't planned to go anywhere," His thumbs were on her biceps now, stroking. Chris pursed his lips, considering things. "Why? You miss me if I left?"

"You kidding!?" She threw her arms around his neck again, thrilled. Chris lifted a brow, waited for it, and the kid holding her didn't disappoint. His hands slid right on down and cupped her little bubble butt. "I cannot BELIEVE you are here. It's insane. It's Silent HILL insane."

She didn't care. She didn't even stop hugging for it.

And the kid said, "What's Silent Hill? Is it like Myst? Myst is pretty rad."

"...oh OH! You're coming over. After work? You're coming over to play it. It will CHANGE how you think about the world. I kid you not."

Great. He was a video game dork too. Awesome.

Jill finally realized he was standing there and shouted, "RedFIELD! Holy bologna. Come here. Remember when I was telling about Kennedy, right? From the group home? THIS – is him!"

Chris wanted to laugh. So, he laughed. Because "Kennedy" should have been short, fat, and hopeless according to the picture hanging on the fridge at their place. This kid was not those things. He was stupid handsome, tall, and clearly in shape. The only plus side is that he also appeared to be younger than shit, so it was unlikely Jill was interested.

Chris shook hands, eyeing him. Kennedy eyed back, brow arched.

HAH! Two bulls stamping the earth and snorting. Interesting, considering Chris hadn't really thought himself the jealous type before. But he and Jill were super pals. Another man in the picture would divide her attention. He didn't like that at all.

Chris mused, "I heard you were a lump with glasses."

Oh ho! Leon lifted one side of his mouth in a smirk. This heaving bag of testosterone was so jealous it was palpable. It floated around him like a balloon. Interesting. Jill would have said if there was a boyfriend. Not that it was relevant, since Leon wasn't after anything but seeing her again. So, the angry suitor really needed to dial it back a notch.

"Hmm. Apparently not. Although it's interesting she mentioned me. I'm sorry, she didn't say a word about you. You are?"

Cocky little shit. Chris snorted.

Jill, unaware of the potential pissing contest currently happening around her, laughed with delight, "Right! RIGHT! Sorry! This is Chris Redfield. He's my roomate and my pal from work. We met in the academy. He's kind enough to let me squat with him until I get my own place. Which, probably will happen some day when I have two nickels to rub together right?"

Leon grinned a little. "Still broke as shit huh?"

"Some things never change. What about you? Rollin in the dough, are ya?"

The kid kept that arm around he like it was nothing. Looped right around her narrow waist. And she looped back, over his skinny shoulders, almost absently stroking one of those sweaty arms. She kept laughing in a way that made Chris smile. He liked the laughter. He didn't like the kid with his hand on her hip...but he liked the laughter.

Kennedy snorted out a derisive sound. "Please. If you get two nickels, can I borrow one?"

Jill grinned, putting her cheek on his shoulder.

Chris, irritated that he WAS irritated, mused, "We should probably get going here, Jill. Duty calls right?"

Jill waved absently. "Go on back and get ready. I'll catch up."

Chris and Leon held eyes over her excited chattering. Leon was amused. Chris? Not so much.

Finally, Chris shrugged and relented. "Whatever. Your funeral if you show up too late, Val. You know how the bossman gets."

Jill chortled now. "Like he's sucking a lemon with a stick up his ass!"

Chris impersonated Wesker. It looked like a horse doing a fish face. She laughed and slapped his arm. And Redfield? He grinned.

There it was, Leon mused, THAT look. He was looking at Jill like maybe she'd laugh again later...naked. Curious, Leon studied their dynamic. Lots of laughter, lots of work stories, lots of easy going vibes – and lots of dirty little undercurrent turned his way by the big guy with the bad haircut.

Interesting.

Chris invited, coolly, "You should swing by later and get a drink with us. We usually hit J's Bar after work."

Interesting. He was going to go with being uber polite it seemed. That spoke of a good upbringing right there. Leon was going to bet there were lots of hugs and kisses in the Redfield house. And a little mom in an apron baking cookies and dolling out life lessons.

As Chris Redfield ran away, Leon Kennedy mused, aloud, "You realize that dude hates my guts, right?"

Jill blinked, surprised. "What now? Redfield? He doesn't hate anyone. That guy is so laid back it's like he chows valium on a daily basis. I'm pretty sure if a horde of zombies burst out of the trees one night to eat him, he'd just scratch his ass and yawn."

Leon returned, musingly, "Usually that kind of lazy attitude denotes a guy who's used to having everything handed to him. He probably fucks that way too...lazy. Lays there while you do all the work."

Jill snorted a little, "He is kinda spoiled. But it works on him. He's a good dude. Give ya the clothes off his back."

Tongue in cheek, Leon replied, "Mmm. No doubt. Probably be happy to take the clothes off yours too, by the looks of things."

Jill snorted a little bit. "Don't be gross. It's not like that."

"For you, maybe. For him? He wanted to kick me in the dick, throw you over his shoulder, and run off whooping like a caveman."

Oh, she'd missed his sense of humor. He was still, it seemed, all about just throwing it out there. Missing a filter, was Leon Kennedy.

"I'm not his girl or anything. He's not the jealous type either. We're bros."

Leon volleyed his eyes over her face, trying to discern if she was actually serious here. Yep. All kinds of serious. Interesting. She believed that. She believed Redfield was her "bro".

He found her charming as hell.

She'd been something when they'd been young. All knobbly knees and big eyes with a no-nonsense attitude he straight up dug on her. The attitude had softened with age. She wasn't angry at the world anymore. She was a girl who'd found her place and was content.

Redfield?

He was part of that world. Although, not, apparently, THAT part of her world.

Curious, Leon wondered if he was going to be stepping on something here. He wasn't sure that he cared, objectively speaking. But he didn't want to make problems for her either. Best to put it out there.

"Hangin with me gonna mess stuff up there?"

"For me and Redfield?" And now she just laughed. She laughed. And he'd heard that in his dreams about a thousand times in the last few years. He'd missed it. "No. Ha. NO. Once...he groped me when he was drunk."

Leon tilted his head, smirking. "Hmm. Really?"

"Oh, yeah. But it was like...a year ago. It was just once. He was so drunk. It was nothing."

He considered the situation here. He wanted to be her friend. He wanted to be in her life again. He'd come across the country to find her. In all his life, she was the only person who'd ever even pretended to give a shit about him.

So, he figured, best friends did right by each other – despite the outcome.

"That so?"

"Yep. We never brought it up. It was ok. He apologized."

"….he apologized for kissing you."

"Yep. He's a nice guy."

"Hmm. Sounds too good to be true. And it was nothing?"

Jill nodded, bending down to tie her shoe. "It wasn't a big deal. He's too good hearted to be mad at anyway. He's always doing nice stuff for me. He's my buddy."

"Ah. Your buddy who kissed you once when he was drunk."

"Exactly."

"Hmm. Jill?"

"Yeah?"

"Friends don't kiss each other when they're drunk. Unless they want to be more than friends."

She stood up, shaking her head with a laugh now. "That's not true. Drunk people do dumb shit. I once peed in a potted plant at a funeral home in the adjacent viewing room when I was drunk."

Leon felt his mouth twitch. His eyes started sparkling at her. She giggled a little...and stole his heart.

Flushed a little, Jill defended herself, "What? I was wasted."

"Was there a viewing happening in the room?"

"Luckily not until later."

Oh lord.

"So, you think drunk people grope their friends?"

"Absolutely. It was just a kiss anyway. It didn't mean anything. He's a good dude."

"Yeah, ok. Jill?"

She turned back from scanning the path. "Yup?"

"You used to be smarter than that."

"What?"

"Watch."

"Watch wh-"

His arms curled around her. Her hands came up and slid against his slick chest. She had a moment to think: ?! # like the Tasmanian devil, and his mouth anchored to hers. The arrow of it went right from mouth to crotch and down to toes. She made a little hmmhmm humming sound of delight and pressed into him.

For him? A double edged sword. And a rather interesting backfire. The second he kissed her, every alarm in his body went off. It was that kiss when he was fourteen amplified by sweaty skin, big blue eyes, and adorable giggles. She went up on her tiptoes, he kinda ducked and scooped, and she was lifted off her feet against the front of him.

It would have been a good lesson to teach her all about the completely stupid idea of friends kissing meaning NOTHING but it smacked him in the hormones and left him dazed. He started to let go and back up and she opened her mouth. Nope. He was done.

His tongue slid in, hers slid out, and somebody moaned.

Since he was kinda afraid it was him, he was going to pretend it was her.

It was running feet passing by them that brought them out of the worlds longest kiss. Jill separated their mouths with an audible sound. He was flushed. Running? Maybe. Or her. Or them. Holy moly.

Her feet were still dangling.

She whispered, "...umflubbadub."

Well...that was embarrassing. She thought maybe she'd just spouted gibberish. Hoping it would go unnoticed, she grabbed his ears and kissed him again. Oh, it was good. GOOD. Her wonderful little friend in the sexy little package that was currently sucking her tongue. Oh, it was good. And nuts. And wonderful.

Somebody groaned. Somebody gasped. There were a pair of hands in someones shorts and grabbing some ass. A laugh. A desperate sound. And final separation.

"Oh...shit." Jill laughed, stumbling as he let her go. "Oh, lordy. What the what? Seriously?"

"Hah. Uh...fibblekisstablobber."

She laughed. She just laughed. Holy mackeral. This was something to feel. She squeaked a little when she said, "So, that's what is clearly happening there. Some friendly groping. That means...nothing. Yep. It's all good."

"Mmhmm. Yep. Nothin. Just some groping."

"Yeah. Friendly. Pals."

"Jill?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna get dinner after work?"

She laughed, mouth pulsing. "Hmm. Yes. Yes, I do. You'll have to pick me up. I don't...hah...I have a bike."

"Like a Schwinn?"

She gave him a droll look now. Flushed, adorable, he shrugged. It was funny that they were standing with the bench on the path between them like a shield. A shield to WHAT? More kissing?

"A motorbike, Kennedy. Seriously. I look like an ET type girl to you?"

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck a little. "Right. Yeah, I have a Jeep. I would LOVE to pick you up. When's your shift done?"

"Like eight thirty?" Jill hated that it was squeaky and leaky like a balloon when she talked.

"Ok. So...nine? We'll go play pool maybe." Leon hated that it was hoarse and cracking a bit when he talked.

"Great. Super. That works. Just...two friends with some cues and no groping."

"….sure."

She eyed him. He looked back, cheeks pink.

Jill murmured, "So, maybe SOME groping. A little. A little groping. Between friends."

Leon laughed and it was gravelly and rough. And it was CHARMING. It warmed her blood. She figured it was interesting for both of them.

He agreed, deadpan, "Some polite groping. Nothing overt. No hands in the pants."

Red faced, Jill muttered, "Yeah. Yeah that was me. With the hands in the pants? That was me."

"It was you."

"It...it's a nice ass."

"….thanks. Maybe I can...you know...grab yours back later or something."

Flushing, light headed with it, Jill laughed again. "Hmm. Yeah? Maybe. Yeah, I think that is good. Later. With the ass and the grabbing and the groping between pool games. And the friends with the hugging and the running! The running! I should do the running now...for the work I need to do at...the STATION!"

She kinda shouted it and had him jumping.

His mouth twitched again. She was so red she looked like a beet. Leon laughed again, softly. "Right. The station. Where we work. Where you work and I work. Not together. So, that's good."

"Right. Rookie. Because you are a rookie. I AM YOUR SUPERIOR!"

Again, with the shouting. He jumped from it. She threw her hand over her mouth in horror. He blinked. Jill blinked. She backed up a little on the path. "Sorry. Shouting...is no good here. I have to go...run. Away. This way! Run this way. Not away. That would be dumb to run away...so...goodbye to you, Leon Kennedy. MY FRIEND. The rookie friend. Bye...just...yeah..."

She took off running.

He stood there blinking.

And then he just started laughing so hard he had to sit on the bench and relearn how to breathe.

…..

In the office, Jill was doodling little chibi eyed Leon Kennedy's on her notepad. Brad Vickers stuck his head over her shoulder to snoop.

A stupid guy on a good day, on this day? Brad was even dumber. Because his sallow faced complexion shouted, "Valentine draws anime! Valentine, draw some of those big tittied chicks making out with tentacles."

What a dumb ass.

Jill gave him a bored expression. "Vickers – beat it. Before I break my foot off in your ass."

Everyone laughed and gave Vickers shit as he went back to his desk. Jill was doodling again when the ball of paper smacked her in the face. She blinked and looked up. There was no way to tell who'd thrown it.

Unrolling it, she read the ugly scrawl there: _You really shouldn't stand in the park and make out with rookies. It makes you look like a loser. And could go badly for you at work._

Jill narrowed her eyes. She licked her teeth and rose. Whistling a little, she moved over to Chris' desk. He was typing two fingered with a vengeance. He was awful. His tongue was tucked between his teeth while he copied his written report to the tiny computer screen. That was actually kinda cute.

Jill knocked his report to the floor in a flutter of papers.

Forlornly, he watched them fall. "Great. Now I have to reorganize them."

"Good. You like writing me threatening letters, Redfield?"

"I didn't write it."

"Hmm. Really?" She compared the note to his report. Chris narrowed his eyes. Jill waited, tapping her foot.

"What? I don't see the resemblance."

Jill pursed her lips. She lifted both brows at him. He shrugged. "What?"

"Mind your beeswax, Redfield. Know whose business this is over here?" She circled her palm in front of her.

"Whose?"

"Nunya. Nunya business. So, peace out, homie. And leave it alone."

Amused, Chris chuckled. "Got it."

"Good. Why you care anyway?"

A good question. He considered it. "He's like five years old."

Jill laughed, slapping his shoulder. "He is not. He's maybe two years younger then me. You've dated girls hella younger. Don't be stupid."

"You dating him now?"

"I dunno. We're pals. We're doing some groping. We're doing some hanging out. Why? You jealous?"

Interested, Brad and Barry Burton were both eavesdropping now.

Joseph Frost was leaning so far back in his seat to hear it all that he nearly fell over.

Chris guffawed a little, stacking up his papers again. "No. I don't care. You want to suck face with twelve year old boys with girl hair, be my guest. Just don't be surprised when people start giving you shit for banging rookies."

Annoyed now, Jill mused, "You know what? No one gives you shit for banging rookies. Or Joseph. Or Brad...ok NOT Brad. Because he can't even get the hookers in chairs to bang him."

Everyone laughed but Brad.

"But what's the double standard here? It's ok for you. For everyone else. But not me?"

Chris shifted in his seat, a little guilty because it was kinda true. "Ok. Yes. BUT – but for good reason."

"I'm all a flutter with anticipation here. What reason?"

"You're a good girl, Valentine. Got a good rep happening. You'll tank it by banging rookies. I'm just saying. You think it's worth it?"

"I think it's a bullshit double standard."

"Without a doubt. Doesn't make it less true."

Jill shoved his reports off his desk again for spite.

"Hey! Come on, man!"

"I'm only gonna say this once and then not again, who I sleep with, see, hang with, or anything else? Nunya. NUNYA. You got me? Mind your fucking business. All of you. And stay out of mine."

Chris winced as she slammed out of the office.

Shit.

She'd never been mad at him before. It was a weird feeling.

Barry eyed him a little over on the other side of the room. Picking up the mess, Chris shrugged, "What?"

It sounded defensive as hell. Barry chuckled a little. "Just tell her you love her, you dumb shit. Before she gets wound up in the other guy."

"I don't love her. She's my friend."

"You dumb, Red. Just sayin. DUMB. With a capital D. I don't want to hear it when you lose her to that kid. Cause you will. You've known her how long? Ever hit on her?"

"No. AGAIN – friends."

"Yep. Dumb. Friend zone for you, idiot. Enjoy being her best man at the wedding."

Chris tapped his pencil. He ground his teeth a little. He considered it. And he didn't like that Barry was kinda right.

He'd been ok in the friend zone when Jill was single. Because they were kinda together without dating. They lived together. They had a great time. They just didn't have the messy problem of fucking or dating.

Everybody wins.

Well, not exactly. He wanted the fucking. But he didn't want to risk it with Jill.

He'd started kissing her and groping her that night in the Academy and panicked. Because if it went bad? There went the best friend he'd ever had.

So, he'd played it off. And they were best pals for it.

No harm, no foul.

Only now...there was this kid. The formerly fat foster kid from the group home. Sniffing around and dropping puns and making Jill laugh. And? Sucking face with her in the woods.

Ugh.

Ok. So, that was how it was playing out there. What to do about it?

Well, clearly, when a man fired a shot at you – you fired back. So, he could sit here and wait for Jill to fall in love with her formerly fat best friend...or he could get his head out of his ass and back in the game.

He was lazier then shit about a lot of things but he was also the most determined guy on earth when he put his mind to it. He was going to take Jill away from the rookie. He figured it might take a week. Maybe eight days.

It started with a little laughter, ended up with a marathon session of fucking, and climaxed with a relationship. Easy peasy franken cheesy.

One and done.

What had she said? Peace out homie. That was about to happen to Leon Kennedy.

That's what happened when you started fucking with Chris Redfield after all: a swift kick in the ass, a front row seat at the loser parade, and first class tickets on the formerly fat kid express to friend town.

Chris Redfield: 1, Leon Kennedy: 0. No room for three in that bed. It was STARS only.

And Chris was already laughing as he gathered up the things he'd need, to put Leon Kennedy six feet under, and on the bullet train back to the past.

Only room in Raccoon City after all for him and Jill. Chris and Jill.

One boy...and one girl.

And NO rookies.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So, this is little story is just so cute. It's fun. And kinda fluffy. It will eventually run on toward other stuff. This is just love story building so far. Thanks for the notes and the reviews and the pms regarding this little story. I didn't expect it to gather much traction honestly. So, I'm glad it's well liked._

 _I love nothing more then a nice love triangle. As we see here, no one is too far in yet and so things are just fun and cute. Two boys battling for a girl's affection._

 _Slainte._

 _-TLF_

… _._

* * *

 _ **DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough***_

* * *

 _ **Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt...**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Three: In Which We Find A Boy who's a rookie – A Boy who's a menace – And a Girl with a choice to make**_

* * *

Leon Kennedy dropped his keys twice trying to get out the door.

He was so late. LATE. Just terribly late. But it wasn't his fault. It wasn't.

From the moment he'd rolled into the RPD that morning, Chris Redfield had set about making his life fucking miserable. The hazing had started in full force. That's what happened when you were hanging with Jill Valentine – you got an angry, jealous, bad haircut wearing monkey fucking up your world.

The first part was pulling shit detail as a traffic cop downtown during the parade. Eight hours of directing cars and excited patrons to good parking spots and local flair. He had to wear little white gloves and a stupid hat. He had a whistle, like a crossing guard, and a sign.

Redfield out ranked him, big time, so when he'd stuck his head into the bullpen and bellowed, "YO! Kennedy! You're just the guy we were looking for. Get to use all your fancy training today, kid. BIG job for you."

Asshole.

Big job indeed.

He'd gotten back from that shit detail to find out he was on the chore wheel –twice- for bathroom maintenance. So, he'd spent the second half of his afternoon scrubbing shitters and urinals. This put him into the six o'clock hour already behind. He had to fill out and file eighteen reports before he could even get off duty.

He was still hammering away at the typewriter when Redfield and the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. crew came by his desk. Chris stopped and glanced down at him, "Long day, rookie?"

"Nope. It was great. Learned a lot."

"…sir."

Leon stopped typing and glanced up at him. "What?"

"It's sir. I'm your superior. So, it's…learned a lot, sir."

Mother fucker.

Leon licked his teeth. He wanted to say about eighteen different things. Did he? No. He glanced over at Jill where she was laughing by the fountain with a little bit of a thing with short hair. And he kept his peace.

Instead?

"Of course, sir. I apologize. Won't happen again. Anything else I can help you out with before you head out?"

Chris snorted a little and patted his shoulder, hard. Thump, thump, thump. "Nah, you enjoy your night rookie. Seriously. Big day tomorrow. I need somebody to canvas the neighborhood for witnesses regarding that homicide on Baker. Should be a total shit show. That street is nothing but hookers and junkies. Good luck finding a reliable witness statement."

It was official: Chris Redfield was the biggest douchebag that ever lived.

EVER.

"Sounds like a real opportunity to expand my interrogation techniques, sir. I'm happy to help."

Chris had to admit, the kid was unflappable. They eyed each other narrowly. Kennedy kept on smiling but those eyes? All kinds of boiling rage.

Chris' were twinkling happily. "Hmm. Good attitude, kid. I like the enthusiasm. Be here at six sharp ok? I have a mountain of old reports that need typed up. I see you're a whiz there on that beast of a machine. GOOD. It'll make my life easier. Take it easy, rookie."

Chris hailed Jill as he walked off, "Hey, Valentine! You ready? I got a game of darts with your name ALL over it!"

Jill grinned a little and shook her head, "Can't. I'm on until eight thirty remember? Working the Gussman bombing."

"So what? Blow it off. It'll be there in the morning."

Oy, she thought, Redfield…lazy.

"No, you lazy bastard. Some of us like to do our work."

"Pfft. It's why we have rookies!" He grinned and shot a finger gun at Kennedy. "Isn't that right kid?"

Jill lifted both brows. She watched Chris and Forrest leave laughing with Joseph and Kevin Dooley. She shifted her gaze back to Leon.

He was typing furiously now at his desk.

Moving to join him, Jill perched on the edge of his desk. He didn't quite look at her which was interesting. "Do I want to ask?"

"Just hazing the new guy, clearly."

His tone was something. Jill lifted a brow at him. "Up here, Kennedy. Not down there."

His eyes shifted and lifted to her face. And there it was. The arrow of it. It zipped and thrummed where it stuck in his breast for her. Ok. It was worth it to let that Neanderthal haze him. Worth every shitty minute.

He said, quietly, "I've missed you, Jill. A lot."

Touched, she tucked a piece of his shaggy hair behind his ear. "Yeah. Me too. You wanna get out of here?"

He grinned a little and sighed. "I'd looove to. But this shit pile of reports would just be waiting here for me in the morning. You're on for a little longer?"

"I am. About an hour."

"Ok. Great. So, I'll finish up here and swing by your place to grab you after I'm done?"

"Deal." Jill watched him shift his attention back to the reports. She saw his mountain was four times as big as the others. Curious, she lifted the top one. She scanned it and narrowed her eyes. She shifted to the second, scanned it…and pursed her lips.

Redfield.

Little jerk.

Jill shook her head a little. "I'm gonna go run and change and finish my own shit pile of paperwork. Nine?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

With a wink, Jill pushed off the desk and moved toward the locker room. He watched her, impressed with how she moved. There was some kind of lithe grace to her that said training. Her short little bob of dark hair complimented the pretty big blue eyes. The eyes were the face with her, clearly. They were ringed in thick lashes and big enough to drown in. Coupled with that pouty little mouth and dip in her chin? Gorgeous.

He was halfway through the stack when she came back from her office to head out.

Her hand tapped playfully over the back of his uniform as she passed by his desk. "You got forty five minutes, rookie. Don't be late."

Laughing a little, Leon looked up to crack a joke. Since he was always late for everything. He was late on his first day of work. Late for his interview. Late for his funeral, most likely.

He flicked his eyes to her and back to his typewriter.

And stopped.

He stopped and looked back at her.

Some little blue tube top atop the tiniest black skirt ever created and knee high black boots. A little white sweater was looped around her waist. With the exception of her shoulder holster, the rest of her was…bare.

It was golden skin and freckles. It was lithe muscle and long legs. It was murder.

Probably murder.

Leon found out he couldn't even speak. Nothing. Zilch. Mute.

She winked at him from one of those big blue eyes ringed in sooty eyeliner and grabbed her little white and red umbrella from the station by the door. She turned a little, "Forget picking me up, ok? Meet me at J's?"

He nodded, apparently still unable to form a cohesive sentence.

Jill hurried out into the rain and the big doors slid closed behind her.

Leon leaned back in his rolling chair. He blew out a heavy breath. He rolled his neck and adjusted himself where he sat. Ok. So that's where that was headed.

It shouldn't surprise him.

He'd gotten his first real wet dream thinking of her. Why not continue to throw a bone anytime she was around? Lord. This was a dangerous game to play with her. They'd been so close in that group home. Peas in a pod. It was risky to play into a love affair with her especially with Redfield hanging around like a dragon at the gates.

If he kept pursuing her, Redfield was going to make his life hell. Not that it mattered. Guys had been dogging him for as long as he'd been breathing. First because of his size, then because of his weight, and after? Jealousy. Because he'd been the best at everything.

He'd never backed down to a gorilla faced fucker before and it wasn't going to start now. Aloud, Leon avowed, "Bring it, you son of a bitch. Let's see who caves first."

He went to the locker room to change into some street clothes.

Because he was aware of his pseudo-date that night, Leon Kennedy had packed himself no less than three different options for what to wear. Casual: A navy t-shirt and jeans with Adidas. Casual- Dressy: A baby blue men's dress shirt, rolled up on the forearms, left unbuttoned over a white undershirt, and paired with khakis and leather sandals. Dressy-Hip: The same men's dress shirt, still rolled up on the forearms, paired with a fantastic silk tie and a dove gray vest. He'd throw it on with the jeans and a pair of black boots.

He stood too long considering. Jill didn't care.

Who was he kidding?

Redfield probably had four shirts in various colors and a pair of camouflage shorts. He doubted he stood around debating different styles before a date. He SINCERELY doubted it. What had Jill said? Lazy.

Redfield was so lazy.

Maybe he didn't even bother to shower.

"Alright," Leon pep talked himself as he changed, "So, we go OPPOSITE, Redfield. Compare and contrast right?"

He slipped on the dressy-hip and felt good about it.

But now he was late. So, he was really pissed after dropping his keys twice. He ran out into the rain and leaped in his Jeep. The engine kicked over on the black beauty and sent him careening down Main Street.

His tape deck was blaring Bon Jovi at the top of its lungs.

He left it, rocking out while he shifted gears and headed for the bar.

He tossed his hair a little to get it out of his face and caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror.

The old man would hate his hair. He knew that. It was why the haircut had first come to be, actually. Because the drunk ass old fool would have hated it. If he wasn't so washed up now, that being crippled wasn't even the worst part about him.

He was a joke. He'd been hit in the street that day. It had left him crippled. His legs didn't work. It was wheelchair bound for the old man after that. Wheelchairs and anger. The drinking got worse. He didn't bother to come get Leon from the home.

So when he'd turned eighteen, Leon had never looked back.

But he knew the old man was alive. He'd heard he was living out his days in some home somewhere for the infirm. Too lazy, too stupid, too weak to get on with his life without bitching and looking for a crutch.

Dumb old man.

But the "girl" hair Leon enjoyed would make him angry wherever he was. "You faggot! You dress like a fucking girl! You a girl!? Your mama died birthing some queer?"

The old man as progressive as a right wing redneck could be. He practically had an elephant from the Republican Party crammed up his prejudiced ass. Sometimes, Leon wished he was gay just to spite that old bastard.

Leon swung the Jeep to a spot outside on the street by the bar.

He leaped off into the rain and headed for the door.

Inside, Chris was whooping. "See this, Valentine? DEFEATED."

Jill shrugged, unconcerned and sipped her beer. She glanced at her watch and out into the rain. He was late. Was he coming? Chris was clearly being a douche to him. Maybe he was tired of dealing with him.

Offhandedly, Jill mused, "You wanna tell me why you keep picking on Kennedy?"

Chris laughed a little and helped himself to her beer. Too lazy to order his own, clearly. "He's a rookie, Val. That's it. Don't get your panties in a bunch because he's your buddy."

"Hmm. Doesn't have anything to do with being jealous right? That would be stupid. You're not the jealous type, right Redfield?"

He held her narrowed gaze. They kept on staring for a long moment.

And he finally laughed and turned back to play darts with Forrest.

Little jerk.

Jill turned on her stool as the door opened.

He stepped in shaking his wet hair and there was that zip in her belly. It felt like a flutter of butterfly wings. It made her grin. As he crossed the bar, Jill thought there probably wasn't anything cuter in it than him. Probably. Including Phil the bar owners Cocker spaniel Lump that lived behind the bar.

Swiping water off his face and shaking his arms to send droplets of it flying, he eased up to the bar with her. It was packed, standing room was limited. They pressed close to hear each other over the music and the conversation that swirled around them.

She grinned, "You're late."

"I'm always late. Hadn't you heard?" Leon leaned on the bar and ordered a scotch. "Jill?"

"Yep?"

He put his lips beside her ear, "This outfit you're barely wearing? It's asking for me to grope you."

Delighted, Jill turned her face toward him with a little laugh. Their cheeks brushed. Their noses brushed. She said, quietly, "….I know."

And had him grinning at her.

"Clever girl."

"I have my moments." She looked down at him and back at his face. "You look like a GQ cover model."

"Yeah? I was going for dressy hip."

Her hand not holding her beer lifted. It slid over his tie and rubbed the silky material between her fingers. His hand not holding his scotch settled on the edge of the bar beyond her hip. He was leaning over her.

Forrest laughed a little beside the dartboard, "That dude is _leaning."_

Chris turned a little. They both stared for a moment. And Chris laughed, sharply. "Goddamn, rookie. That's _leaning."_

"Yup. He's leaning on Valentine. What's the game plan?" Forrest pursed his lips, tapping them with his dart.

"Operation Raccoon City, dude. Destroy and conquer."

"Copy that."

"Game on."

"Game, fucking, on."

They both laughed and started planning exactly how to get revenge on the floppy haired rookie cop currently _leaning_ all over Jill Valentine.

Jill kept stroking that silky tie in her fingers, "This is nice. Your bottom of the barrel paycheck afford you shit like this?"

Leon rubbed their noses together and had her toes tingling in her boots. "Nope. That's overtime pay, sweetheart. I can't be badly dressed out in public with the RPD royalty, can I? I'll never live it down."

Their mouths brushed as they talked. It was probably the best feeling she'd ever had. Her lips tingled like her toes. Her mouth turned up into a wicked little grin. "Officer Kennedy?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"You wanna go back to my place and have some overtime?"

He threw back the rest of the scotch. She fire bombed her beer. And his voice broke, just a little when he answered, which…made her NUTS for him. "…you're my superior, ma'am, I'm pretty sure I'm here for whatever you need."

"Mmm. There could be groping involved, Officer. Possibly tongue kissing. It might be outside your job parameters."

She watched his adam's apple bob. She rolled her lips around. They both had dilated eyes.

It was pretty awesome.

He murmured, "Serve and protect, ma'am. I'm here to serve."

Her face was so hot. The bar? The people? The crowd of bodies and noise? The smoke?

No…the rookie.

"Leon?"

"Mmm?"

"You should show me your car."

"Yep. Yeah. Ok. Sure. I should do that. Just…yep." He slapped some money on the bar and grabbed her hand. She was laughing as he jerked her off the stool. She was still laughing as he practically carried her one armed out of the bar.

Joseph arched his brows. "The rookie stole your girl."

Chris hit the bullseye again, rolling his eyes. "It's temporary. That girl is all flash and sizzle. He'll burn out for her quick enough."

"You planning to keep her by what? Being her steady old rock?"

"Why not? Fire fades out, my friend. Rocks? They just keep on rolling."

"….that's not entirely unintelligent, Redfield. Consider me impressed. You Confucius?"

"I am. Inside, Speyer. I am. Indeed." And he was also jealous. Which pissed him off to no end.

Outside, in the soft rain, Leon bumbled his keys twice. Jill was laughing. Her hands were under his vest and stroking. His face was on fire.

He laughed, a little hoarse, "So this is my Jeep."

"It's nice. Leather seats?"

"Hah. Yep. Leather."

"Soft top?"

"You bet. For…uh…"Her hands tugged at his shirt and were playing at his belly. "Uh…nice days. Good days. Warm? Something."

A little light headed, Jill nipped his chin while he crammed the key in the door.

Her fingers skimmed his right hip inside his jeans and he grunted and jerked open the door. "Just…get in there. In. The Jeep."

"In?"

"IN. Hurry. Yes. Jeep."

One word answers. Oh lord. Jill slid her hands into the back of his pants and grabbed his ass. What followed was a lot of laughing and rustling clothes. Someone grunted. Someone laughed. And Jill spilled back into the Jeep. Her legs poked out until he spun her around while she laughed and slammed the door.

He skipped, twice, and all but ran to the driver's seat.

The door of the bar opened and along came Chris Redfield to shit on his parade.

"Rookie!"

Leon was half hopped in his seat. He levered himself up to look over the roof of the Jeep. "Yeah? Sup?"

"Sup? Sup is a robbery homicide on Sanderson. Sup is I want you to handle the call."

Was he fucking kidding?

"I'm off duty."

Chris lifted his brows. "Are you? I'm pretty sure you're on duty for another…" He checked his watch, "Eighteen minutes."

Mother…fucker.

Leon stared at him. The window of the Jeep rolled down.

Pink cheeked, Jill laughed a little. "Hey Redfield. What's happening?"

"Sorry, Valentine. I need your boyfriend here to do his job. They need a uniform over on Sanderson at the robbery homicide."

Jill gave him a long look. He held it, blandly. She pursed her lips. "Fine. I will go with him."

Leon swung into the driver's seat, fuming. Jill touched his arm, just once. "A minute? Ok?"

"Sure."

She slid out of the seat and circled her finger at Chris. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and followed her over to the side of the bar…where she proceeded to shove him into the wall. Hard.

He grunted, cursing a little. "Seriously?"

He said nothing.

She smacked his chest – twice. "Seriously!?"

"What?" It sounded a little angry.

Good. She was pissed.

"You slit stopping me, Redfield? Seriously? All the times I've been your wingman here and you're slit stopping me?"

He couldn't stop the laugh. "What the hell is slit stopping?"

"It's the female version of cock blocking, you little asshole. You fucking with my getting a piece of ass?"

"No." She went to smack him again. He held up a hand to stop her. "NO! I'm not. They need a uniform, Valentine. He's it. He's still on duty! It's not my fault!"

Jill put her finger in his face, glaring. "Chris Redfield, I swear to god. If you keep up this petty shit, I'm going to tank every date you have between now and forever. I will fart in a mason jar and put it in your bedroom like an air freshener. I will leave tampons in the trash unwrapped. I will embarrass you so badly at work that you can't even show your face. Don't slit stop me, don't you dare."

"I'm not." She glared at him. He shifted uncomfortably. She kept on throwing daggers from those big blue eyes. And he kinda shouted it, "I'M NOT!"

"Get off his back, Redfield. I mean it."

"You protecting your fat friend again, Valentine? From the big bad bully?"

Jill reached forward, grabbed a handful of pec, and twisted. Chris squeaked and smacked at her hands. "OK! OK! Christmas cookies made from shit! FINE! Lay off with the titty twister!"

"Lay off with the jealousy. You're being stupid. You want me for yourself?"

He met her burning glare. He blinked. She waited.

Finally, he muttered, "….no."

"There. See. So, knock it the fuck off. You just don't want me hanging with other dudes. And if the answer is really yes?"

He was rubbing his sore chest. She arched both brows. "It doesn't matter. You let that ship sail, Redfield. You did that. Don't come sniffing around my panties now that you see another dog in your yard. And you leave him alone. He's my friend. SO ARE YOU. Unless you keep being stupid. Then you're my enemy. And I destroy my enemies."

"That sounds like a threat."

"It is. Don't be stupid. Go back inside, find a nice chic, throw some bone down to her and go home. Leave it alone."

Jill passed by him. Chris called after her, "You sayin you aren't interested in my bone?"

Jill rolled her eyes. "Right now? No. Your bone is acting about twelve years old."

"The one in that Jeep with you is about the same age. Woulda thought you'd like some prime young cock."

"Grow up, Chris." The first time she'd ever said his name. Ouch. It felt like his mom admonishing him. "Seriously. You are the dumbest man alive about chics. Seriously."

Jill leveraged herself up into the Jeep. She closed the door and it pulled away from the curb.

Chris muttered under his breath as he went back into the smoky bar. Idiot. What the fuck was that?

Forrest was watching him, grinning.

"What?"

"You are so dumb."

Barry called out, from the pool table, "RIGHT!? DUMB!"

Chris rolled his eyes. He picked up his darts and his beer. "Blow me, you turds. And shut the fuck up. Play darts or fuck off."

The laughter around him was well deserved, admittedly. It was a fairly jealous display. He was kinda surprised at himself. He wasn't the type for it. But Jill was his buddy. And she was throwing herself at some formerly fat foster kid with a Shaggy from Scooby Doo haircut and overblown fashion sense. Stupid.

He'd just have to be more tactful at splitting that up is all. The punch in the face Redfield method was failing here. So, maybe it was time to try a little fat foster kid method.

He considered it.

Yep. He was going to have to SEDUCE Jill Valentine.

Now he just needed to figure out how in the HELL he was supposed to do that.

…..

The Jeep was parked under the heavy willow tree near the park. The branches tickled the soft roof with dripping fingers of green. The rain cocooned around it with a steady patter of sound.

It was almost midnight. The crime scene had been a mess. Jill had helped the investigating officer's while Leon had done his damn duty and stood guard. The night had worn on with tents to cover evidence and interviewing witnesses.

It seemed pretty straightforward: drug deal gone wrong. A dealer dead in the street when he'd tried to scalp a client. A couple extra bucks had gotten him a few quick sticks from a shiv right into the side of his neck.

He'd bled out all over the pavement.

They'd finally left the crime scene just before midnight.

Leon asked, quietly, "You wanna go home?"

"No. No, I don't. You?"

"No. Where?"

"Park."

And here they were.

In the quiet interior of the Jeep, Leon filled the backdrop of soft rain with the sound of his voice. "He's into you, Jill. Big time. You guys have something happening there. You want me out of the way? I came here to see you again. It doesn't have to be more than that."

Jill stared out the rainy windshield for a moment. This was the kid who'd let her fight beside him all those years ago. He was the guy who let her drive his flashy Jeep from the crime scene without even blinking. And he was willing to get out of the way to let her be happy.

She didn't know exactly how she felt about Chris. But she knew how she felt about him.

She said nothing. She turned and hiked up her mini skirt. She shifted around the steering wheel and the gear shift in the dark and straddled him.

Her hands petted, they peeled back layers, and her mouth settled on his with a singular purpose. His slid up the outside of her thighs and curled up her back.

It was heavy panting and wet suckling. The spill of her skin in the moonlight. The feel of his mouth, his hair, his breath. It was a blending of sounds and skin. Nobody groped, not really, it was more and less and everything.

Touching, god yes, and kissing. Lots of heavy petting. The column of her throat, the spill of fingers against the smooth skin of his back, the shirt and vest went smooth under her stroking palms. Her shoulder holster was dangling around her belt. Her hands on his face. His on her naked spine under her top.

It was better then she'd thought. Better. Because under the rush of want for him was the slow thrill of the friend who'd been the first in her life to ever really look at her. The first boy she'd ever kissed - the same one she kissed now.

They separated, panting. Two sets of blue eyes in the silver spill of moonlight.

And Jill whispered, quietly, "You're not in the way. You wanna be in the way?"

She dropped her mouth to kiss him. It was soft and needy. It was trembling.

He breathed, "Yeah. I wanna be in the way."

Jill stroked his face, fingers and mouth. His hands roamed her thighs, her back, her neck and shoulders. They spilled together finally in a whole body press.

And because they both wanted to spill naked and desperate into the other, they clung instead, breathing slow and heavy.

He dropped her off like a gentlemen and Jill eased into the apartment. The witching hour was long and the dark glistened almost wetly along the floor and the walls of the kitchen as she crossed through toward her room. She was setting her purse down and easing off her boots when Chris spoke and scared the shit out of her, "Jill?"

She turned, unhooking her shoulder holster from her belt, "What?"

And he could tell she was still irritated at him. He just wasn't sure how to get the point across here without getting into the irritation. So, he did what he'd been doing since he met her and started waiting at the top of that wall for her to climb it; he pushed her a little in the right direction.

Jill laid her gun on the dresser in her room. She eyed him in the moonlight. He was in his sleeping pants. His hair looked mussed by harried fingers. The silvery shadows on his chest highlighted the nice show of muscles and just a touch of the right amount of chest hair.

She queried, "What is it, Redfield? I had a long night. Thanks to you I'm also hard up and pissed off. So just spill your beans and beat it, would ya? I'd like to get to bed sometime before dawn here."

He had to consider what the former fat friend would do here. He'd been playing this all wrong so far. What was the right move?

Jill shifted toward her closet, padding over the carpet on bare feet.

And Chris knew what the answer was here.

He stepped into the room.

Jill took her uniform out of the closet and turned to lay it on the dresser.

And there he was. Just RIGHT THERE. She bumped into him. "Dude, what the f-"

"I lied."

"What?"

"The answer? It was yes."

"The an-"

She lost the uniform as he took her face. It hit the floor, her back bumped into the wall, and he settled his mouth to hers without a seconds hesitation.

Her hands came up, locked over his biceps, and her mouth opened. It was more surprise, more instinct, then anything else. But the second she let it, his tongue took over the charge, and Chris Redfield kissed her like he pushed her up that wall – no hesitation, no chance for retreat; he just held on.

Jill made a small sound of surprise. He didn't grope. He didn't force. He just gave it everything he had. That was the thing about Redfield – lazy, yep, and then bowling you over while you weren't even looking.

Her gasping filled the space between as he finally gave her mouth back to her and stepped back.

"The rookie your boyfriend, Jill?"

Jill made another small sound.

"Yeah. Didn't think so. You decide he's the only one you want, I'll get out of the way. Until then? I'm in. I'm in the way. So, you have a choice to make. Take your time," Chris cupped her face and turned it back to his. Testing them both, he dropped his mouth to hers again, "I'm not going anywhere."

Her fingers curled over his pecs and gripped. Her mouth? It opened for him.

Yeah, he thought, she had a choice to make here.

But he made it a little harder for her by pluming the wet heat of that waiting mouth again until they were both breathless. As he let go, her realized her leg had lifted and slid over one of his and the arch of her foot was curved against his calve. He'd snuggled in against her while they'd touched. He brushed there now and brought her face flush with the heat of it.

"Yeah. Not going anywhere. Slow right? That's my thing. But he can't have you without a fight, Jill. That's just how it is has to be. Maybe he's all over you. But so am I. So, I'm not going anywhere."

Chris let her go and stepped back. Jill sorta stumbled and grabbed on to her desk to keep from falling. Aroused, amused at them both, Chris intoned, "Get some sleep, Val. You gotta busy day ahead of you. Lot's of important things to do."

Jill made that sound again, bringing a laugh from him.

"Yeah. Sounds about right. I'm gonna get jump back in my bed for a few more hours. Unless," He lifted both brows, "You want me to just jump in yours instead?"

Oh, her face. All flushed skin. She glanced at the bed, at him, at the bed, at him and cleared her throat twice before she could answer. "Uh…I think…I just…um….we should slow down a sec here…just…oh lord…"

She fanned her face.

"So, is that a yes or a no?"

Jill laughed a little, "You're kind of a bastard, Redfield. Just sayin."

"Still not an answer."

She knew it wasn't an answer. They both knew it.

It made him grin.

"Right. Good night, Jill. Sleep tight."

He closed the door quietly as he left.

Jill fell to her face on her mattress, made a sound of distressed amusement, and laughed into the comforter.

Of course. OF COURSE. She went from no men, to two men in forty eight hours. Two of them, neither with the intention of getting out of the way of the other one. Two of them with their hooks in her in various ways.

She was trapped between them. She was screwed.

But she WASN'T screwed. By either of them.

The eternal struggle.

She was stuck.

She was a Jill sandwich.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So this is just the sexy stuff. Bwhaha. Just building that romance story again and setting up the scene for the horror later. The next chapter will connect our heroine more to the other side of our triangle. Hopefully this story is reading well. It's fun to write anyway. And thank you for reading it!_

 _-TLF_

* * *

 _ **DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANY ONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough***_

* * *

 _ **Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Four: In Which We Find A Girl With Two Boys – Too Many Kisses – and a Tower of Fear that Awaits**_

* * *

Jill Valentine was a woman with a mess on her hands.

Those hands were all too happy to fill themselves with all kinds of inappropriate things. The first of those things was herself when she woke up horny, helpless and looking for release. There were TOO MANY BOYS KISSING HER. It was that simple.

It was that complex.

She wanted the kissing, this was true, but she didn't want the complexity of the feelings behind the kissing. It was bound to end badly. No matter which direction she went, someone was going to get hurt here. The likelihood that it was going to be her was pretty good.

As she used her overly full hands to bring herself satisfaction (in a tribute to the Rolling Stones – it turned out you could INDEED get what you need given the right amount of early morning masturbation), Jill considered what to do with herself. She was no wilting young thing, no sweet little innocent girl looking for a romance novel filled with angst and lovemaking. She was a woman who'd had a lover or two in her time (none that bared repeating) and was certainly capable of knowing what she wanted from her life.

She did NOT want a messy love triangle.

As she gasped and came with a moaning squeak, she realized that what she wanted didn't quite matter anymore. She was in it. She had two men wanting her time and attention.

How did she choose between them?

Firstly – they each had qualities she enjoyed.

Leon: the best friend turned gorgeous male lead. Charming, hilarious, possessed of an enviable fashion sense and unparalleled ability to just "get" her and what she needed to laugh and look at life without rose colored glasses to convolute things. He offered her the promise of something pretty great – a potential future with the best friend she'd ever had that left her laughing and breathless with want.

Redfield: (Shall we finally call him Chris? He did, in fact, have his tongue down your throat about five hours ago) The simple, endearing, impossibly direct and loyal male support system that had offered her a place to live, given her the open book approach to his friendship, and always treated her with respect, humor, and unerring devotion. He took away her loneliness and offered her something pretty great in a return – a potential future with her best pal in her bed taking her overly active imagination and filling it with the taste of him.

Oy.

She didn't think there was a WRONG answer here. Not even a little bit.

Right now everybody was in.

What did it look like with someone OUT?

Would any of them still be friends?

Would she lose them both by not choosing between them?

Could she end up going from a triangle to a straight line?

Could she end up…alone?

Breathless, sweaty, one hand sliding up from between her legs, Jill breathed, "Heady."

And it was. The possibilities of it were too heady to ignore.

So, maybe the answer was to simply play it by ear and not get in too deep.

If she was a guy, the answer would be to sleep with both of them. Compare and contrast and pick the one she liked the best. That was easy right?

It was a bit slutty maybe. But at least it was honest.

Here? In this moment? She could be honest.

She WANTED to sleep with both of them. She wanted to see what it was like. She was betting it would be all thick, smooth, sleek and powerful with Leon. And fast, hard, and needy with Redfield. Both – would please different parts of her. She was nearly painfully attracted to Leon. It shimmered. She'd always been drawn to Redfield. Always. She'd put it aside after things had leveled off with them, sure, and it was ok to stay safely behind that closed door.

But the door was open now.

There was no harm in walking through both doors to see what waited on the other side. No one was lying here. No one was playing games. Ok, maybe Redfield was playing games with Leon. And that was between them to fix. But she wasn't.

She wasn't.

She kinda was.

Who was she kidding here?

By simply wanting them both, she was playing a game. A game with herself. The more she played into it, the harder this would be. Because she WANTED to date them both.

She just didn't know how that went down.

The only way to know for sure was to be upfront about it and find out.

Sliding from the bed, Jill eased into the bathroom and climbed into the shower. She washed away the night and the shivery dewy signs of her release. As she was soaping her hair, she heard the door open to the bathroom.

Frozen in the heated spray, she listened.

She heard him start brushing her teeth.

And then?

"Mornin', Valentine. Sleep good?"

Rinsing her hair, Jill answered, "Yup. Like a baby. You?"

"Not really. I had a boner for the first half of the night."

Jill blinked and felt the grin spread across her face. "Oh yeah? What about the second half?"

"I just rubbed one out and took care of it."

Shaking her head on a slight laugh, Jill responded, flippantly, "Sounds like fun. It went ok?"

She heard him laugh, spit in the sink, and rinse down the old toothpaste. "Once I pictured the right scene in my head, it went quickly actually."

"Oh, yeah? What scene is that? Lesbians with strap ons?"

She dropped the soap and squeaked when she realized he'd shifted and was right outside the curtain. "Nope. I pictured kissing you actually."

Shaking her head, Jill picked up the soap, watching his body shift like a shadow beyond the curtain. "You get your rocks off picturing my lips huh?"

Next to the curtain, he intoned, "Oh yeah. But I wasn't kissing your mouth, kid. I wasn't kissing THOSE lips."

She dropped the soap again.

The image smacked her between the eyes like a cartoon hammer and left little birdies circling her head. She put one hand on the wall and breathed around it.

The shower curtain shifted a little and her face poked out. "That's not helping things."

"Not sure I'm trying to help. Just making it clear where I stand…or where I'd like you to sit…respectively…" He leaned down so their faces were even. "I'd like to put my tongue in you, Jill. And my hands all over you. I'm pretty sure you know that."

She breathed a little, water dripping down her face. She licked her lips and cleared her throat, twice. And squeaked, "…I'm getting the picture."

"Yeah?" His hand shifted beyond the curtain. He didn't peep. He didn't look. His mouth slid onto hers and the backs of his fingers brushed, once, twice, three times over her wet breasts. She gasped a little as that brushing touch went over her belly, skimmed her hip, and retreated like the tease it was even as he open eye kissed her like he'd brand her. It was impossibly sexy. It left her throbbing a little.

When he released her mouth, Jill was flushed and trembling. She murmured, "…pretty sure that's playing dirty, Redfield."

"I'm ok with it."

"Hmm." She ducked back into the shower, shivering. "I bet you were lazy about it in the dream."

"Not lazy about that, kid. You want me to get in there with you and show you?"

He heard her knock over shampoo bottles in shock and watched her picking them up and cursing under her breath.

She was kinda adorable when she was nervous.

"You…stay out of this shower, Chris Redfield. You hear me? I'm not that kinda girl."

"Which kind is that, Jill? The kind that showers with coworkers?"

"Exactly. Yes. I don't do that. I am a good girl. I can't have boys kissing me. And talking about dirty dreams. And trying to take showers with me. And..and…whispering about putting their tongues in my …"

Yep.

She was fucking adorable.

So he finished it, "In you, Valentine. I want to put my tongue in you. In your mouth, on your clit, in the heat of you while you gasp and cream and cry out. I like it. The lazy part? It's good when I'm going down, kid. In the dream? I was really lazy. I was really lazy with my tongue in your forever. You want me to show you?"

"NO!" She squeaked when she shouted it and had him grinning. "N-No…just…no. Go to work! Stop talking dirty. You are a foul man. Terrible. And you with the kissing and groping. And old friends with kissing and groping….I'm only a mortal woman here. Stop trying to kill me. The both of you."

"You sure? In the dream, you begged me not to stop. I should probably see if that's true."

"You are the meanest man alive."

"Maybe. But I had you begging. You like to get fingered while you come, Jill? I'd like to put my fingers in you too. In the dream, you liked two in you at once while I sucked your clit."

He was a wizard with dirty words. Awful. His mouth, it was just filthy. It was also turning her on.

He watched her drop the soap again and stumble. He could see her shadow huddled in the water. It was UNGODLY amusing and UNBELIVABLY hot. She was kinda afraid of her want of him. He liked it.

But he'd give her some mercy. He'd planted the seeds of it in her head. He'd wait for them to grow.

She heard him laugh again, "Yeah. It was like that. I'm gonna leave you a muffin on the counter, Val. I'll catch you at work."

He left the bathroom and she poked her burning face into the steamy water and shivered.

He was disgusting.

Awful man with his dirty talk. Terrible.

She was so aroused it was painful.

Damn him.

He was gone when she jogged down the stairs to the parking lot to grab her bike. She had her keys in one hand and the muffin tucked into her mouth. She wasn't paying attention as she turned the corner of the building to the parking lot.

And she ran right into the person coming the other way.

She OOFED, dropped the muffin, and nearly went down. But his hands caught her above the elbows and held on. The muffin made a plop sound as it hit the pavement. Leon mused, "A waste of good blueberries huh?"

Breathlessly, she whispered, "Hi."

"Hi." He whispered back. And his cheeks were splashed pink. She was betting hers were too. "I probably should have called first huh?"

"No." Jill answered softly.

"No?"

"No. I missed you. No reason to call. Just...I'm gonna do this now..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah...just...come here..."

He laughed a little.

And Jill shifted in.

Her hands slid into his hair, his curled around her back and lifted, and her feet dangled as they kissed. There was THAT, she mused, as the lightning went from groin to lips. There was THAT. She didn't know exactly what she felt about Chris Redfield. It was something exciting and complicated and messy.

But THIS…this was something chemical and emotional and very real. It was the friend who became the potential lover who wanted nothing more than to spend time with her. And her hands…they just wanted to touch him.

Her little beret fell off, her fingers twisted in his hair, and he turned her against the brick wall of the building. There was a lot of panting, a lot of pulling, somebody gasped, somebody cursed, and the air finally ran out forcing them to let go of each other's mouths.

She murmured, softly, "Chris kissed me last night."

Ah.

Leon scooped her hair back from her face. She was flushed and her big eyes were bright and excited. He ducked his mouth to kiss her again, smooth and wet.

Jill made a small needy noise and slid her hands down to grip his ass.

Finally, he answered, "Yeah. I thought he might."

Interested, Jill watched his face from inches away. "You're not mad?"

"Not mad. And not surprised. He's not as dumb as I thought." Testing, Leon shifted his hand from her neck. He slid it down until it rested beside her left breast. She surged against the touch and killed him where he stood. "You want me to back off? I meant it before, Jill. I will. If he's what you want."

Her hands shifted and slid into the back of his uniform pants. She gripped two handfuls of his ass and had him grunting as they locked mouths again. It was impossible to know how long the kiss dragged on. Until a sound of a horn honking from the road beyond them drew them apart.

She still had her hands in his pants. His left one had shifted over her breast and was cupping it. Jill breathed, "I don't want you to back off. I don't want that. I just…didn't want to lie either. About anything."

"You've never lied. And I'm not backing off unless you want me to. I can handle the shit he throws at me. I can handle all of it. Whatever THIS is with us…I came here for the friend, Jill. I came here for you. I'm not going anywhere."

Her hand shifted over his right hip, stroking. She wanted to unzip his pants and grab him in her fist. It was nearly painful.

She stroked his hip bone instead and felt like a champion of restraint.

She whispered, "I don't want you to feel like you have to wait for me or something."

Leon laughed and shook his head. He shifted his hand to her breast and rolled it and they both made small sounds of want. "Not waiting, Jill. Not waiting. I want you. He wants you. You take your time deciding. I'm in no hurry here but…"

He put their mouths together and her excited breast peaked happily in his tugging palm. Brushing lips, he whispered, "There will be groping. And kissing. And lots of touching…between friends. I don't play fair. I don't wait. And I won't stand by while he steals you…so…tell me you're ok with that."

Jill shifted a little, "I'm ok with that. I'm…do you want to call into work with me today?"

Amused, he lifted his head back to study her face, "You want to play hooky from work?"

She leaned back to watch his eyes, "Yeah. I do. We don't…this….we don't have to do the groping and the kissing and the touching…not all day…I want…I think I want to show you something."

The silence dragged a little.

And then it wasn't silent anymore. He said, "Yes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I can't think of anything I'd rather do then play hooky with you."

She called in. He called in.

Tongues would likely wag.

And she knew Chris was bound to be PISSED. But it didn't matter. She had to start figuring out where her heart was heading here. She was interested in both of them. God yes. She was attracted to both of them. God yes.

She was ready to see what that meant.

But under that was the truth of what this was. This was a reunion. It was being clouded with sex and strange need and convoluted feelings. But it was a reunion.

Of one boy and one girl.

* * *

At the RPD station, Chris came back from target practice to find her desk still empty.

He glanced at Joseph across the small STARS office, "Where's Valentine?"

With a shrug, Joseph remarked, "She called in. Said she was sick and taking the day."

Amused, Chris rolled the paperweight on her desk in the shape of the Death Star.

Taking the day.

Yeah, she was. She was taking the day to run away. Coward that she was. She was going to take her rookie and run away from what was happening between them. Why?The rookie was the safer choice.

He was an old friend. He was reliable. He wasn't a lazy man with little idea what romance was. He wasn't a risk.

She was afraid of Chris Redfield.

It was the first time in his life he was happy to have someone afraid of him. It meant she was running from her feelings for him. Eventually, she'd get tired of running.

And he'd be right there to catch her when she got tired of chasing her reliable rookie. In the meantime, he was happy to watch her struggle while she did.

Lazy was right, in one hand, he was a rock. He was a slow roll. He'd push his way to her, through her, and into her. And she'd never even see him coming.

But he would.

And so he sat down at his desk with a low whistle...and a very big grin.

* * *

They changed out of their uniforms and got into his Jeep.

He dropped the top, took off the sides, and sent them streaking through the countryside. She had them turning down country roads and disappearing into the wide open plains. They ended up down a long forested road in the middle of nowhere.

Amused, Leon guided the Jeep over rocky terrain and rutted dirt roads.

"Where are we going?"

She glanced at him as the wind whipped around them. She was in little jean shorts and a blue tank top with hiking boots. Her short hair was up off her head in two stubby ponytails. He wore jeans and a ringneck t-shirt in a good rich green.

It was a good casual day.

It was a good day to go adventuring.

She said, "So, there's this old ass mansion back here right? Things creepy as fuck. There's the one in the Arklay Forest, right? This one is different."

"How so?"

"This one, at night, has lights coming out of it."

"…so, it's not abandoned?"

"Well…it's not THAT kind of lights."

Curious, he eased the Jeep to the edge of the road and parked it. They were outside the big gates leading to the mansion beyond it. It was a HUGE palatial estate. It was almost a –

"Is it a fucking castle?"

Jill laughed a little, watching his face as he looked at the estate.

"It IS, a castle. Weird right? WEIRD. Right in the middle of nowhere. A castle. Just POOF. And the lights at night? I swear to GOD, they move. Like…willow of the wisps or something. THEY MOVE. How is that possible?"

Leon turned to her, amused, "You're fucking with me, right?"

A loaded comment considering what she WANTED to do with him. But she grinned instead, "I'm not. I can't find out ANYTHING about this place. Nothing. I've dug around in every archive I can think of. Zip. Zilch. What the fuck is it? Who owns? Why is it here? Is it occupied? I don't know."

Leon considered her. He watched her face in the early morning light. The sunlight flickered through the heavy treeline, poking around the forested canopy to flash shadow and gold rays against the blue of her eyes and the spill of her pale skin. The pocketed beauty of the castle in the middle of the nowhere couldn't be overlooked.

Was it odd?

Sure.

Had he seen some odd shit since coming to Raccoon City?

Sure.

From weird shit in the RPD without explanation (he'd gone down a manhole once in the kennels and found what he SWORE was some kind of underground route through the sewers…to where? Who knew). To unexplained phenomenon (the clock tower in the park lit up at random times at night in what appeared to be a very distinctive series of Morse code…to who? Who knew). To castle in the middle of nowhere that appeared simultaneously uninhabited and somehow haunted.

Raccoon City was like no place else on earth.

Of course, the only thing he cared about in the whole damn place was currently sitting next to him.

"You wanna check it out?"

Jill grinned at him, "Pretty sure they call that breaking and entering, Officer Kennedy."

Leon grinned back at her, "Not if you don't get caught."

Jill glanced over his shoulder at the sprawling castle. She studied it in the rising sun. It was spirals of stone and beautiful ornate carvings. It was crumbilng in places, clearly from neglect and age, but it seemed to the bones were still good and standing. And the lights at night…they called to her.

"I'm drawn to it." She continued to watch the castle, feeling that odd tug in her belly, "Why am I drawn to it? I don't know. It's weird."

He could see that she was.

And there in the excitement and wonder on her face was the girl he'd known in that group home. It was the girl who didn't care about rules, that leaped fences and nicked things from the bullies, and gave him a lighter she'd bought with stolen money. So he mused, "Let's go leap the fence and check it out, Jill. What's it gonna hurt?"

"What if we get caught? We could lose our jobs over morbid curiousity." She shook her head, "I don't do stuff like that, Leon. I'm a straight arrow. Didn't you hear? I'm the goody two shoes."

She shifted her gaze to his and found him watching her with that expression she adored. It was part wonder, part unparalleled interest. He just liked looking at her. Almost as much as she liked looking at him.

He said, "Ok. Then why are we here?"

"What?"

"Why are we here, Jill? Just to look at it? No. You want to go in there. So, let's go in there. We won't get caught. We'll poke around and leave. No harm, no foul. We can pretend, if someone pops up, to be looking for directions or something."

She was so tempted.

She always did the right thing. She played the game well. She was liked and respected. She wanted to sneak into that castle. She wanted to slide over the seats right now and take him in the early morning light in this dense forest. She wanted to let Chris Redfield put his mouth on her body and make her fly. She wanted to be BAD.

And it surprised her.

Because she wasn't a girl given to wanting to do bad things.

But she was wanting them lately.

She was playing hooky from work with a rookie. She was sitting outside the gate of an old castle considering trespassing and breaking and entering. She was considering taking off her shorts and mounting him in this Jeep. She'd considered inviting her coworker into the shower with her that morning and letting him finger her in the steamy heat.

Who was she?

She was Jill Valentine…maybe. And she was out of control with the bad girl fantasies lately.

Shaking herself, she laughed a little. "No. I want to. I really do. But I don't think it ends well for us if we do. I won't risk your career for a cheap thrill."

She turned and picked up the basket they'd made with lunch. "There's a great stream this way. You want to go do some fishing?"

Amused, Leon gathered their poles and they picked their way down the embankment through the woods to a beautiful babbling brook. It was flanked by a pretty little outcropping of grass and shade that made for a nice grotto to set up their blanket and their basket and perch around their poles to try to catch some fish.

They sipped pop and fished and laughed. She told him about her time on the RPD force being fraught with bad jokes and flatulence. Working with men, she mused, was a bit like working with a bunch of farting brothers with too much testosterone. You had to be "one of the boys" to fit in with a bunch of cops.

They hiked around the forest talking and gathering firewood and just talking. They couldn't stop talking. She talked about Chris easily enough. He didn't sense a long term unrequited love in her as she talked. She was easy going and friendly about it. She talked about him with an almost brotherly affection. But not entirely. She mentioned meeting him and how they'd become friends.

She told about her time after she'd left the home to return to Noriko's care. It was better, she admitted, things were better. Noriko married a nice man and the years before she'd fled her care had gone by easily enough. She'd gotten out the second she turned eighteen. Her mother hadn't been able to bridge the distance like she'd wanted. But they spoke still.

Jill mused, "She's ok. She tries. But I can't make myself love her, ya know? No matter how hard she tries. It's like…maybe there's a point where we burn away any chance of forgiveness. Does that sound bitchy?"

Leon shifted, poking his pole in the holder they'd shoved into the mud. He took her hand that settling her own pole and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the fingers and stole her breath.

"No. I don't think it sounds bitchy, Jill. I think it sounds like someone who spent her life watching someone they cared about destroy themselves and everything around them. I haven't been back to see the old man once she I got out from under him. Not once. I don't have any guilt about that. But I do have some guilt about not caring that I don't care."

She grinned, "I actually understand that. Which tells you how fucked up we both are."

"Right?" He winked at her a little, "They are the reason we were born, Jill. But they aren't the reason we're alive. That's us. You and me. And what we learned in that home together. That there are people out there that stick. They care. And they don't give up when things are hard. I'm here because you are more my family then that old man ever was. Ever."

She watched his face, shimmering. He was right.

He was so right.

Whatever else was true. THAT was true. Leon was her family.

Redfield was her family.

The kind of love and devotion born in loyalty and strength. It wasn't blood. But it was better. And it was lasting. It was friendship without regret or revenge or remorse. If that wasn't family, she didn't know what was.

Jill turned and watched him reel in a fish. He was good at it. Chris was lazy about it, naturally, but had a strange natural affinity for fishing. There was skill in Leon Kennedy's pole though. He knew how to throw it, how to tug it, how to reel it in.

She paused as her dirty little mind was more then happy to picture the skill of Leon Kennedy's pole. Tugging...reeling it in...

She coughed and felt her face flush with heat.

He tucked a fish into the cool they'd set up to keep them cold and secure and set his pole back into the holder to await another bite. He remarked, "I think we forget sometimes that family isn't what you are born into, ya know? It's what you make it. So, don't worry about Noriko. She can't really expect you to love her after all the shit she's pulled. She gave birth to you, yeah, doesn't make her your mother."

When she didn't answer, he turned his head to see if she'd gone off while he'd been babbling.

She was right behind him.

He added, "You turned out amazing IN SPITE of her, Jill. Remember that when you're feeling guilty about not loving her. All the good in you? It's not her. It's just you. You don't owe her a damn thing."

Leon smiled at her, gently, when she just kept kneeling there watching him, "You ok?"

Jill shook her head a little. Her hands came out, gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He made a small sound and cupped her face as she put it against him. Her mouth was amorous and wet. It licked and nibbled. It tasted and teased.

They spilled together back on the blanket beside their little picnic lunch.

She shifted and opened her legs to let him lie between them. They delved, devoured, suckling and snacking on each other in the dappled sunlight. The brook babbled happily, tossing tiny foamy treats of cool water up on the bank where they lay.

When the stroking and kissing weren't enough, Jill shifted, and he took her tank top off. The bra joined the party and left them kissing and touching in denim and boots. The press of their naked chests together was electric. It was thrilling.

It was somehow so very erotic at the same time it just felt…right. It felt right. And wet. And needy. She tunneled her fingers into his hair while he played his mouth over her breasts, tasting and torturing them both with the endless glide of it. It wasn't hurried. They weren't in a hurry.

Had they ever been?

Hadn't they both grown up feeling like there was never enough time?

And now they had all the time in the world.

Their hands joined above her head. Their mouths joined. Their tongues swirled and twirled and tucked and rolled. Someone kept murmuring. Someone was gasping. Her hands kept spilling into his pants to grip his ass.

He didn't try, not once, to thrust a hand down her pants.

He was such a fucking gentlemen like that.

She was betting Chris would have put his hand in her pants a long time ago.

Her hands caught his face to pull him back from kissing her neck. Her thumbs stroked his mouth while she watched him. "What is it?"

Her voice was breathy and sharp.

His was gruff and trembling, "Not trying to push you here, Jill. Or rush you."

She shook her head, her hands tugged him down to lick his mouth. She whispered, "No rushing here, Leon. No rushing. And no hurry. Just you and me. One boy and one girl."

She gripped his wrist and slid it down her belly. He held her eyes and slid it into her shorts. His fingers found her wet and ready and they both made needy moans. They kept holding eyes while he touched her. She was slick and hot around his fingers. He was smooth and easy while he touched her.

Their mouths met, blending, even as he mated his fingers into the heat of her and had her body bowing. She felt it building. Her free hand slid down over his where it touched her. She felt him, feel her. She felt him as his finger slid into the trembling wet of her aching body.

He put his mouth to the tremulous peaks of her breasts while they touched her together.

It was the sexiest moment of her life.

And then he lifted his head and held her gaze while their blended fingers delved into the slickness of her body…and she was proven wrong.

THIS was the sexiest moment of her life.

No fucking. Just touching.

How was it possible to be touched by someone and feel like fire and want and somehow endless rolling need so smooth it was like silk in the soul? It was insane. A jumble of perfect edge knives that cut and bled as they pleasured.

His other hand shifted and slid down the zipper of her shorts. Not to tug them off her and mount her. No. Just to give him room to touch her more completely. She grabbed his face with her free hand while her other stayed with his and assaulted her weight wet with the wonder of those delicious plunging digits of his.

She gasped, gently. He felt her thighs tremble. Her breasts shivered and pebbled her perfect nipples with need. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Beautiful in the shadow and spill of that dappled forest light. Beautiful beneath the backdrop of that ancient castle on a cloudless summer sky. Beautiful as her body bowed and arched and her eyes blurred and her skin flushed with the want of him. She was so close to her peak.

He wanted to watch her go.

He said, softly, hoarsely, "If you get there before I do, don't give up on me."

Jesus.

Her heart.

She gasped and slid her other hand down his belly. Her fingers dipped into his pants, brushed against his needy body, and she was there. She cried out softly, bucking a little. He felt her tighten around his fingers, her thumb brushed against his slick need, and he grunted, shaking with it.

Her arching body was fuel for him. Her hand slid down into his pants, fisted around him, and milked even as their joined fingers plunged into her climaxing body and took her further over the edge. He dropped his mouth, she craned her neck, and they blended tongues and lips – and kept on watching each other. She breathed, gasping, "I'm there…I'm here. I'm here. Come with me."

Jesus.

His heart.

Her hand curled, tugged, dipped and his fingers pushed into her and stayed, feeling her body spasm and release. Their tongues twirled, his head swirled, and it was enough. He humped against her kneading fist twice and came for her. The thrill of it stole her breath, the sticky heat of him spilled over her pulling fingers and made her cry out with the want of it. He stole her cry on his delving tongue.

It should have been dirty.

It was a beautiful moment.

She'd never felt more alive.

He'd come all this way to find her. He hadn't ever guessed this is what waited for them. He'd known, as a boy, he was in love with her. He'd known, seeing her again as a man, he was still in love with her. He knew, while they watched each other fly and fall and burst with it, that he was in trouble here.

Because it wasn't simple, this thing he felt for her.

It was castles in the middle of the nowhere. It was insane.

And he was going to get Chris Redfield out of the way to have her.

It was that simple.

It was that messy.

They trembled together, clinging, sticky.

She leaned back to see his face. They were both flushed and sweaty. She murmured, "Leon…?"

"Hmmm?"

"I don't think friends make friends come in their pants."

His eyes flared a little. His mouth twitched. And he laughed.

He laughed with his hand in her pants. He laughed while she held his twitching sticky need in hers. He laughed. Because that was the thing about her. She was his best friend. They were always laughing. Always.

Even gasping and sweaty and raw.

Laughing.

He breathed, gently, "Being your friend is complicated, Jill Valentine."

She grinned a little, and her little fist in his hands tugged on his still tender root. He grunted and humped against her, making her eyes cross. "It can be. It can be simple too. Leon?"

"Mmm?"

"We should go swimming."

"….yep. Yup. Mmhmm. Yes. Swimming. Swimming is good. Swimming. Now. Please. Ok. Yes. Just…" She was laughing as he tugged off her boots. She was still laughing as they shed their clothes and ran for the water naked and joyful.

They skinny dipped happily in the babbling water, enjoying the warm summer sun and the fresh cool water on their heated flesh. They splashed and played and laughed. He talked.

He talked about growing up without any friends. He talked about leaving the group home and going out on his own to find his place in the world. He talked about looking for her and finding clues from where she'd gone. He talked about going back to home town to see what had become of the bullies and the people he'd hated.

There was no anger there. No regret. Just a kind of wistful emptiness as he spoke. Like he was talking about another life. Another person's story. He was at peace, clearly, with his place in the world. He'd always been a laid back dude. It seemed to have perpetrated most of his life.

They swam together and slid together beneath the shallow waterfall at the mouth of the brook where it met the mountains. Their naked bodies brushed in the cool water and soothed even as it excited.

She scooped his wet hair off his face. He slid his hands down her legs and scooped her against his front. She wrapped her legs around him and held on while they floated in the bubbling frothy waves.

Jill said, "Do we want to talk about what all of this means?"

Curious, he watched her face, "We can if you want. We don't have to. I'm not here trying to own you, Jill. You know that. I'm here trying to be in your life. That can mean whatever we want it to mean. We can be casual. We can together. We can be friends. I'm ok with it. I didn't expect to see you and get all confused about how I felt. But it's ok that I am. I like it. I like you. I love you."

She blinked. And he grinned a little.

"You know I love you. It doesn't mean I'm in love with you," Although he was. But it was ok to avoid that for now, "It just means I love you. Always have. That means I'm here. It doesn't mean anything more than that."

Jill shifted, she kissed him, long and smooth. He kept holding her eyes while they kissed. She liked that a lot. And she said, "I love you too. Always have. I've missed you so much. Give me just a little time to figure out what's happening here. Ok? I'm not saying wait. I'm just saying…a little patience. I'm afraid to lose you. I don't want to say the wrong thing here."

Touched, he cupped her face in the gentle spray from the waterfall. "Hey. I'm here. I'll keep saying that. I'm here. I'm not trying to make you choose me. Or cut him out. Or move on. I'm here. Take all the time you need, Jill. But I'm not going to step out of his way either. I'm in. I meant that. He meant it too I'm sure. That makes the decision is all on you."

Shit.

She shifted and watched him. She wanted to make love to him.

It was that simple.

It was that complicated.

Because she wouldn't do that until she was sure where she stood with Redfield. It was the right thing for all of them to figure that out. So, instead, she dropped her mouth and kissed him until they were breathless in the burbling brook.

Neither of them knew they weren't alone in their little grotto.

The shadow of the castle where they played fell long and dark across them.

And the eyes within the stone were dark and malevolent.

As was the terror that bled amongst the few that lived within the towering goliath.

And the madness that waited to claim them both.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: The love story turns a little here. We see the other side of things. We start to touch on the heart of the first part of Jill's emotional adventure. She has to pick between them at least for a little while. She does so here._

 _The next few chapters will start to build toward how she'll end up in the castle with both of them. Clearly, she's not done with the triangle exactly. She's just making a choice for the good of things with limited information. Plus, if I push things off toward the canon eventually I'll need to create the reason she would go one way and not the other._

 _But? Shall we go on?_

 _This chapter heavily inspired by a delightful song entitled Take It Out on Me. A fun little sexy song that always makes me giggle._

 _Thank you for reading. I know this is a little lighter and angsty and fluffier then some of my stuff. But I like it. I'm going to get everyone embroiled deep before they end up lost in the castle._

 _-TLF_

 _…._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANY ONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Five: In Which We Find A Rookie with an Ex, a Girl with a Complex, and a Sniper with a Smooth Tongue_**

* * *

Playing hooky from work came with a price:

The next day at work Jill Valentine couldn't live down the jokes. Everywhere she went she was subjected to giggles and whispers. Some well-meaning jokester even went so far as to leave fishing lures all over her lamp on her desk to signify "hooky". She was going to bet a million dollars it was Redfield.

He took over the charge on torturing Leon upon their return to the RPD. She didn't see him for three days while Chris had him on every shit detail that came through the station. He was on last cat patrol, on concert clean up; he was canvasing neighborhoods for witness on B&E botch jobs. If there was a late night drunken check point, Leon Kennedy was the officer there with the breathalyzer.

To be fair, he took it all without a single word of complaint. He was so goddamn good natured about it; Jill knew that even Chris was having trouble continuing to torture him with it. She gave Chris a pointed look on the third day after he came back from assigning all his procedural notes to the rookie for typing up.

"What?"

"You about done?"

"With what?" He settled at his desk and avoided her gaze.

Jill waited, watching him without blinking.

Finally, he huffed out of a heavy breath, "I'm not doing anything wrong. He's a rookie. It's his job to follow orders. I do it with all the rookies."

Jill said nothing.

Chris met her look, unflinching. They had a stare down over Brad and Joseph's spitball battle.

Chris relented with a sigh, "Ok. I'll ease off."

"Thank you." Jill returned to typing up her report. Chris smirked a little.

"You wanna tell me where you went the other day?"

Giving a gallant shrug, Jill mused, "I wanted to show him the castle."

Interested, Chris leaned back in his desk chair to watch her. He stacked his hands behind his head and rocked, tossing a boot on his desk. "No shit? What'd he suggest?"

"Same as you…jump the fence and check it out."

Chris nodded sagely, "So, maybe a doofus, but not a pansy. Good to know. Did you?"

"Nope." Jill switched reports and kept on typing, "You know me."

"I do. Ms. By-the-Book."

"Don't judge me, you half assed monkey. If there's a way to get around doing anything, Mr. Procrastination over there will find it."

Barry snorted out a laugh. "You got that right. You're the laziest person I've ever met, Redfield. Seriously."

Chris shrugged, too good natured to care. "So? I do half the work and get paid the same. Who's the smartest person here again?"

Jill chuckled. Brad quipped, "Me. I just pee my pants everytime Wesker asks me to do stuff. Eventually, he stops asking."

Joseph rolled his eyes, "Meanwhile, you get to sit in your urine soaked pants all day. He asked who was the smartest, Vickers, not the most saturated."

Everyone laughed good naturedly. Even Brad. Because, even though he was a fucking coward, he was also good at being the butt of the joke.

Brad queried, "So, you spent all day in the woods with that rookie from Vice? Doin what?"

Jill shrugged, "Hiking. Fishing."

Brad glanced at Joseph who bobbled his brows. Barry shook his head to keep him from opening his big mouth, but Brad was also notoriously stupid. So he added, tongue in cheek, "Fucking?"

Barry winced.

Joseph looked on eagerly to see Brad get his ass kicked.

Chris managed to see mildly curious.

Jill lifted her head, slowly. She pursed her lips. Finally, she rose and moved toward Brad in his chair. Brad remained seated, grinning. "Was it good? I bet you fuck like you work, Valentine. All procedural missionary position."

He demonstrated robotic fucking. He impersonated Jill like a bored doll, legs akimbo, eyes dull and sightless. Barry braced for it. Joseph gathered his camera to take a picture.

And somehow? There was Chris STILL only mildly curious.

And then Jill kicked Brad's chair legs. He grabbed for his desk, missed, and Jill kicked him in the chest as his chair tipped backward. It was a good hip kick. She didn't pull it.

It hit and thrust the other man like she was kicking in a door.

Brad went down, his chair clattered, and he went skidding over the floor from impact.

Joseph was laughing like a donkey. Barry was wincing in sympathy. And Chris was now fully amused. But still leaning back with those hands stacked behind his head.

Brad was trying to relearn how to breathe around his bruised chest on his back on the floor. Jill stood over him, eyes narrowed, "Next time you open your mouth, I'm going to stuff my fist down it. Joke all you want, but you keep your fucking mouth shut about my private life. You hear me? What did I tell Redfield about who's business this is?"

She circled her hand in front of her chest.

Brad gasped, looking pale and tortured, "Nunya."

"That's right, idiot. Nunya. Start spreading rumors about me or Leon Kennedy and I will obliterate you. I'll make sure the pictures from Joseph's bachelor party get leaked."

Brad looked horrorified, "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. What was that dude's name, Joe?"

Joseph was grinning like a wolf, "He said his name was Heather."

"That's right!" Jill snapped her fingers with inspiration, "Heather…the tranny. Heather. THE GUY. Did you find out she was a he before or AFTER the blowjob, Brad?"

Brad looked like he might puke.

Chris intoned, snorting, "It was after. After, right Barry?"

Barry shook his head, shuddering, "Yep. After."

Jill pointed to Brad on the floor, "Not a word. Ever. You hear me?"

Brad nodded desperately.

Chris mused, "I still have to wonder how you missed the adam's apple on that guy, Vickers. Seriously. It was as big as a ping pong ball."

Joseph snickered, "I maintain he knew it was a dude all along."

Jill turned and opened the door to the STARS office on their laughter. She eased into the enormous RPD lobby a few minutes later. The fountain bustled with pretty aqua water. The people milled and talked and rotated positions. Secretaries answered phones and bodies moved from one area to another. The bullpen was loud and boisterous with excited officers.

Somebody was dancing happily to a boombox blaring a Poison song.

Jill jogged down the stairs and into the main part of the traffic, watching uniforms rib each other and laugh and down coffee in buckets. She caught sight of his red hair amongst a group of guys laughing and arm punching one another. She opened her mouth to call out of his name and someone beat her to it.

"Leon!"

The laughter eased in the group of guys as they turned to track the voice. Coming across the room was a playboy bunny in an expensive red suit. It was a perfect pencil skirt, a pretty tailored jacket, and a camisole in lacy white that left as much to imagination as it revealed. She was tall and beautiful, with platinum blonde hair in a perfect bob and Marilyn Monroe beauty that permeated and left you wanting more. She was all curves and perfect teeth and big green eyes.

Jill froze, watching her move.

And then one of the other rookies laughed and elbowed Leon, "Kennedy….busted."

Busted?

Marilyn Monroe didn't hesitate. She LAUNCHED herself into his arms.

Jill was rooted where she stood.

She was stuck there.

Frozen.

Because he didn't push her away…exactly. Not exactly. The blonde amazon looped her thin arms around his neck, puckered up, and laid one on him to the laughter and hooting of his cohorts. And he didn't stop that either.

Jill looked down to see if her feet were still there because she couldn't feel them. She was suddenly struck dumb and blind or something. She couldn't feel her fucking feet. Her hand lifted and rubbed at her chest. She couldn't feel anything but the pain there.

The blonde finally stopped kissing him and he queried, "Alyssa, what are you doing here?!"

And Marilyn Monroe/"Alyssa" replied, "I missed you. You didn't make it easy to find you, by the way."

The other cops around them were laughing and giving him shit. His face? It was half amused, half impressed. "You ever think that's because I didn't want to be found?"

"Why not?" Alyssa pouted those perfect lips, "We had a fight. You just ran off. You can't still be mad at me."

Still amused, Leon drawled, "You threw two glasses at my head and tried to run me over with your BMW. Mad? Mad is not exactly the word."

Alyssa grinned and winked a little. "Oh come on. That's not the worst that ever happened with us. Passion right? It's our thing. You ran across the country because of that? That's just silly, baby. I took a transfer to this awful little town to find you again. Raccoon City? Really? Chicago, I could see. D.C. But the RPD? What the hell for? The newspaper here is exactly six writers and an editor, Leon. I'm going to wither and die on the vine working here."

Jill blinked, blinked, and stayed stuck where she was. Why did it surprise her to find out he had an ex. An ex that had followed him across the country. An ex with perfect hair that looked like a model.

Ex..reporter.

The little name badge said: Ashcroft. Alyssa Ashcroft, Raccoon Press.

Holy hell.

Leon looked highly amused as he said, "You'll manage. I have no doubt. But I'm just betting you didn't come all this way for me, darlin. What's the real reason?"

Grinning a little, Alyssa said, "Ok. So they offered me the lead reporter position on the crime beat. You know me, I'm a money whore. I couldn't say no. Finding out you were here was the bonus though. Big time. You know you're going to forgive me, right?"

He opened his mouth to answer and his gaze flicked on its own. It flicked and landed. The smile froze on his face. Alyssa followed the line of his gaze and pursed her lips.

"Ah. So, that's problem huh?"

She let go of him and turned. Jill was stuck. She wanted to run.

She didn't run. She stood there while the blonde amazon woman approached her. Leon was hot on her heels. He grabbed her arm a little, "Come on, A. Let's not do this now."

Alyssa tilted her head, studying Jill. She was taller on a good day anyway. But in the heels she wore, her five foot nine build was at least five inches taller than Jill's five foot five. Alyssa mused, "This cannot be the foster home girl you were always talking about, right?"

Leon spoke softly, trying to avoid drawing a bigger crowd, "Alyssa, leave it alone."

She glanced at Jill and back at him. Her brows shot up, "It IS, group home girl. Holy hell. She's a mouse, Leon. A mousy little thing. You had me thinking she was beautiful."

Alyssa tilted her head again, "She's plain. And kinda big eyed doe in the headlights. That's your thing now? Really?"

Jill, confounded, stood silently. Which wasn't like her at all. She wasn't usually the type to back down to a loud mouth bitch. And this one was one of the biggest she'd ever met.

Leon tugged on her again but Alyssa resisted, "You sleeping with my husband, you little mouse?"

And there it was.

Husband.

Ex-girlfriend?

Nope.

WIFE.

Jill felt like someone had throat punched her. She stood there, blinking.

And Alyssa added, "I don't like sharing, you little bitch. And I'm back now. So, you can go back to the foster home and keep on waiting to play house with him. It won't make him any less mine."

Jill felt vaguely like she was going to barf. She didn't even resist when Alyssa shoved her shoulder and had her stumbling.

Leon grabbed Alyssa's arm and slung her back, gently, "I said that's enough." His tone was cold but steady now.

Alyssa laughed, harshly, "You run out on our marriage to play house with your old foster home girlfriend, Leon? That's what you came here for?"

Alyssa eyed Jill where she stood with disdain, "What the hell for? She's ugly AND stupid by the look of her. You know how to speak girl? Or just stand there and look retarded?"

From over her right shoulder, an amused tone remarked, "Looks to me that you've got the market corner on looking stupid here, Ashcroft. Pretty immature and catty to try to pick a fight in the RPD lobby without knowing what the hell you're talking about."

Alyssa's eyes shot over her shoulder to the person standing behind Jill. "Redfield, I don't remember asking your opinion. How bout you run off and mind your business?"

"I'd advise you to do the same, you jealous bitch. You see anybody sniffing after your man here? All I see is a foul mouthed bitch trying to pick a fight over nothing with a person who clearly isn't rising to the bait. Shop your shit someplace else, Ashcroft. Nobody here is interested."

Alyssa laughed harshly and spun away. It didn't matter anyway. The damage was done.

The whole bullpen was quiet and watching the show.

Leon hesitated, glancing at her retreating back and then at Jill where she stood. He started to say something and glanced over her at Chris. Something on Chris' face stopped him because, instead, he turned and went after the retreating reporter.

Jill could feel a thousand sets of eyes on her. This is what he'd meant. When you messed around at work, you got a reputation. And now she was a homewrecker. She was the OTHER WOMAN. She was the rookie's side piece.

She was a joke.

A laughing stock.

Her efforts and hard work and careful adherence to policy and protocol and regard for the rules and here she was…a punchline.

It was humiliating.

It was horrifying.

She couldn't breathe.

Chris, standing beside her now, spoke softly but firmly, "Don't do it. Don't. Not here and now. Let's walk out of this lobby and keep the tongues from wagging. Ok?"

Jill nodded, numbly.

His arm slid around her shoulders. Her's slid around his waist.

That single touch turned a lot of eyes from them. Ok. Maybe there was a way out of this. In one hand – she hadn't risen to the bait. And she was pretty sure Leon hadn't said a fucking word about what was happening with them to any one at work. She hadn't. So it was only speculation at this point.

Only guessing.

There was a way out of it. Right?

There was.

It was Chris Redfield.

He laughed a little as they walked, whistling happily. Jill grinned woodenly but she put her head on his shoulder. That was how you did it. You shrugged it off and looped your arm around someone else. It's how you avoided office gossip as the homewrecking rookie fucker.

He turned her into the S.T.A.R.S. locker room.

The door swung shut behind him as they moved.

The rows of lockers and the sound of the shower going signaled they weren't alone.

Holding up a finger, Chris stepped into the therapy room and tugged her in with him. He closed the door quietly. It was dark in the room and empty, save for the therapy whirlpool that waited for a warm body and a bubbling release.

There was a release alright. But it wasn't tight muscles.

It was Jill's small pain filled gasp.

She put her face in her hands and sorta hunched forward.

And she breathed, "Oh my god, he's married."

"I know."

"He's MARRIED." She practically shouted it into her hands. "He's married."

"I know. I heard."

Jill lowered her hands; she lifted and met his eyes in the dark room. "I don't know what to do."

"I do."

They watched each other in the shadows. And her question was so soft, "What?"

"I'm gonna kick his ass. What else is there to do here?"

She shook her head, making a small sound of grief. And she sat down on the bench beside the therapy pool. She put her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. "Don't do that. It's not his fault. I didn't ask. And they're clearly separated or something. Right? Lord. Oh god. What am I doing here?"

She could feel the edge of the tears brewing. Great. To complicate her mortification, she was going to weep. Why? They hadn't really promised each other anything. It was new and exciting and raw. And he was married.

Married.

How did she stop the pain of that?

"Pining over an idiot. Stop it."

She laughed a little bit. "I wish it was that easy."

"It's not. But this is."

"What?"

There was a shift of the shadows and he slid in between her knees where she sat. Her arms opened and spilled around him. On his knees, he was even with her where she sat on the bench.

Before that moment, she'd resisted him. Just slightly. Just a little. Just enough. Because it was always the promise of that boy in the group home hanging around. Her best friend. Her buddy.

Her married friend.

One boy…and two girls.

She stopped resisting the other boy.

And let it wash over her in a warm gush of want.

Jill's hands tunneled into his hair. His shifted and slid around her. He lifted her, rolled on the bench, and sat her down on his lap. She straddled him and sank against him.

Admittedly, Chris couldn't have been more thrilled about how it all turned out.

Thank god for the wife, he mused; he'd buy her some fucking flowers for showing up.

The beret tumbled off. Her short cap of hair spilled around their faces as they kissed. It was wet and wild. She was all tongue and sucking.

She didn't even let him get much of a breath. Her hands were on his uniform and under it. There was the release of her shoulder holster, his vest, and her shoulder pads. It took a minute to get under all the gear to find skin and stroke it.

Her hands finally found him under his uniform top. She whisked it over his head. Shirtless, he tried to hold on to her as she ate at his neck and shoulder. Cupping her face, Chris brought her back to his mouth.

It was a long swirl of tongues before he finally rasped, "Jill? We can slow down here. You can take a minute. It's ok."

Flushed, panting a little – Jill held his eyes in the heavy shadows. "You want to stop?"

"No. But we can if you need to."

"You married?" The question was whispered in the dark.

Laughing gently, his hands slid down to cup her ass instead. She murmured and he answered, "Nope."

"Then we don't stop." Her hands caught and divested herself of her shirt. She peeled it off and let if fall. The white bra she wore was simple and unadorned. It was cotton and plain. The breasts in it were scattered with a fine dusting of freckles and full, pushing eagerly up and ready.

She breathed, "You wanna stop?"

He didn't answer. He laughed and buried his face in her breasts.

There was the scattering of shadows as he lifted her, smooth and naked and ready, and laid her across the therapy table. He put his mouth on her, watched her come apart, and it was better than the dream. Infinitely better.

Because he wasn't a complete fucking asshole, he even kept his pants on. He wasn't quite magnanimous enough to forego filling her with fingers and tongue, nope, but he was a good enough guy not to fuck her while she was mired in regret. Maybe it didn't make him a great guy exactly but it made him a pretty decent one. He didn't push her.

Well, he pushed her.

He did that.

He stripped her naked and put his mouth on her everywhere he could reach. He spread her open and had her bucking and screaming. So, again, not a great guy exactly…but she wasn't thinking about Leon Kennedy while she came against his face…so maybe he was a pretty decent friend.

When she was sweaty and gasping, she reached for his pants and he caught her hands to draw her into him. They kissed slow and wet and long. It made her shudder, it had him shivering, it was a good fucking kiss. And he rasped, gently, "There's time for that. Plenty. You done with him?"

He put his mouth to her breasts while she trembled and bowed against his mouth. She didn't answer. But she breathed his name and pulled him back to her mouth.

And that was good enough for now.

He put his fingers in her and cupped her throat, licking her mouth while she came around his hand. And he breathed, "No rush, Jill. Plenty of time for you and me. Get rid of him and this is you and me all the time. Any time." The pace increased, his tongue licked her mouth, and his thumb circled her engorged body while he plunged his hand into her. She mewled, bucked, and begged a little.

"Please…just…finish. Finish it. Please?"

Oh, lord. Better than the dream, he mused, better. She begged. She BEGGED. Christ in a fancy party dress. She begged. She was beautiful.

He watched her sweaty face in the semi-dark, "You gonna be mine if I do?"

It was a good question.

She was close to coming. She grabbed his arm, bucking a little against his plunging fingers. She gasped, desperately, "He's married. Oh god, does it matter?"

It shouldn't. Logically. But she couldn't just say yes.

And that bothered Chris more then he'd thought it would. Turned out he didn't like sharing. So, he answered, gruffly, "It matters. All in, Jill. Both of us. And I'll finish."

Jesus.

It was blackmail.

He was blackmailing her with monogamy.

The bastard. The brilliant fool. He wanted her enough to blackmail her.

And her best friend in the world?

Married.

MARRIED.

She grabbed Chris' face, her thighs snapped closed around his hand. And she whispered, "All in?"

Jesus. He held her gaze. His free hand jerked her head back by her hair to keep her focus on him. "Yeah. All in. Him, gone."

He was married.

He was already gone.

So, she whispered, "Yeah. All in. You and me."

"No rookies."

"No rookies. Just one boy and…one girl." It broke her heart a little. It hurt. She hated Leon Kennedy.

She loved him.

And she loved Chris Redfield. Loved him. Because he'd stood in that lobby and stood up for her against that awful witch. And he'd never lied.

And he'd never gotten married to the wrong girl.

And he'd pulled her up the wall without rubbing it in.

Her hands grabbed at his pants. He let her, breathing sharp and fast.

Jill gasped, "You and me. Together."

She jerked his zipper down. She spilled her hands inside to stroke and pull and take him into her eager palms. He grunted, watching her face where he held her by her hair. "You and me."

"Just us. No more him. You and me."

The rustle of his pants. The jingle of keys and belt and ammo on the floor scattered. He jerked her to the end of the table. She opened.

And he finished it.

* * *

It was almost dark before she got home from work.

She rolled her little bike into the parking lot and killed the engine, swinging her leg over, Jill moved toward the stairs to her apartment. He was sitting on the stairs as she came around the corner.

Jill froze, watching him in the dying sun.

Leon said, gently, "I can explain."

Shaking her head, Jill passed right by him and headed up the stairs.

He cursed and rose, hurrying up after her. "Damnit, Jill. Stop and listen to me."

She paused at the apartment door. And she turned back. "There's no explaining. She did that for you. Me finding out you're married by her showing up and shoving it down my throat? That was enough. It's done. This? Done. Go home to your wife. And leave me alone."

He shook his head, "I'm not married. Not anymore She won't sign the fucking papers. But I'm not married to her anymore."

Jill watched his face, feeling sad and sore. But not entirely. She'd made her choice.

It was done.

"You lied. You never mentioned her. And you're still married. Worse then that? You let her humiliate me. You let her stand there and treat me like shit. I don't care why. I don't. I've missed you. Like crazy. I've missed you. But, you were right, we don't have to be together to be friends. Maybe we can still be friends. I don't know. But for now? We're nothing."

"Jill…" Hurt, desperate, he took her hands and tried to pull her in. "I didn't lie. I came all this way for you. I didn't know she'd follow. I didn't even know you and I would...that we'd end up here. Don't do this. Wait. Just a little bit. You asked me to wait. I'm asking you now. Just give me a couple days here."

She shook him off, denying, "No. I didn't ask you to wait. I never pretended. I never omitted. I never did anything but be honest. The guy who stood up for me? That guy is waiting for me. That guy gets his chance. Yours? You blew it. Go home to your wife. Before we both say something we can't take back."

He didn't let go of her wrist. He scanned her face. "What are you saying?"

Teary eyed, cold, Jill avowed, "This is done. He wins. He was there for me. You're outta the way. Stay that way. You married that bitch. What does that say about you? Your choice in women blows. Who were we kidding here? I don't know you anymore. Maybe I never did. Maybe we keep looking at each other through old rose colored glasses. I'd never lie about something like that to you. Ever. You never said a fucking word. Who are you? I don't know you."

"….Jill…" He looked so sad. It broke her heart.

She loved him. She really did.

And she was done with this.

She whispered, "Go home, Leon. We're done here."

She pushed passed him, opened the door, and went inside. The warm summer storm brewing over the angry sky let out a rumble of thunder. Her hands raised in the dark living room as she leaned on the door. She put her face in them and breathed.

She was going to cry. She could feel the angry storm of tears echoing the rumbling sky beyond the apartment. She was going to break down and weep like a wild thing.

He saw her from the kitchen. Chris swirled his tongue around his teeth. The fucking rookie. He was going to feed him his teeth.

And he wasn't a getting a fucking tear from her. Now or ever.

Jill felt the tears gather in her throat. She made a small sound of pain.

And a voice said, "Hey…you hungry?"

Her hands came away from her face. And Chris was in the kitchen with a beer and a slice of pizza. The angry storm settled, swept away on a tide of relief.

No weeping.

No regret.

Just done.

She moved into the kitchen with a smile, tossing her keys on the counter. Her hand grabbed his wrist and dragged him in. He came, easily, grinning.

His arms curled around her.

And she said, "Yeah…I'm starving. But not for food. And I like my pizza cold."

He tossed the slice in the box and scooped her up. She wrapped around his front and he set her on the counter. His hands tossed her beret aside and tilted her face up to him.

"What a coincidence…so do I. See? Perfect for each other." He dropped his mouth to kiss her, hungry and full of tongue.

The storm rumbled beyond the thin glass beside the kitchen. It echoed across the valley in a grumble of foreboding. She opened her mouth to him, opened her heart, and ached a little for what she let go of to do it. But there was no regret here.

None.

Just hope.

And a little grief of what she'd lost in that lobby.

And the shadow of something sinister that waited beyond the stormy sky.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Thanks for the continued following on this little guy. My weirdo tale. My odd duck. Let's see what Jill does in more uncomfortable sammichy moments. I don't think Leon's done pursuing her, do you? But maybe he's just the type of guy to hang out in the "friend zone" and wait. Maybe._

 _…._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANY ONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Six: In Which We Find A Really Bad Decision, A Shitty Situation, And Two Alpha Dogs_**

The really bad decision came on a Tuesday.

It was, initially, a Tuesday like any other.

The sun came up. The sky turned clear. The people all started milling around.

Jill went running in the park. Chris stayed home to watch Jerry Springer and eat spicy peanuts with his hand in his pants.

And Leon Kennedy showed up shirtless, sweaty, and clearly not ready to throw in the towel on the friend thing.

He saw her. She saw him. She turned left down a different path than normal to avoid him...and the series of bad things started to happen.

First - a bird came looping out the trees to her right and nearly took a chunk of her hair in its kamikaze flight path.

Second - a stitch in her side set in from not taking her normal break at the bench where she'd stretch and breathe and load up with water.

Third -she rounded the bend, somebody's dog had taken a dump right in the middle of the path and she had leap left and hope to God she didn't get poop patty on her brand new running shoe, and she went right on over into a pothole.

Her ankle twisted, her body swung left, some guy on a bike barreled right past her without a care in the world and down she went. Humiliation complete, she landed in the poop.

In the poop.

She landed right in a pile of dog shit.

It smooshed into her left butt cheek and flattened like a pancake.

She'd avoided Leon Kennedy and she'd twisted her ankle and fallen in shit.

The universe was telling her something here.

Clearly.

He came around the bend and found her there - sitting in shit.

He paused, huffing. The sweat on his chest raced down toward the waistband of his running shorts and paused at his navel to play around. She couldn't blame it, she wanted to see what his belly tasted like too.

Damn him.

A moment passed and Jill finally said, "You gonna stand there smirking or are you gonna help me up?"

"I'm considering it...but I'm kinda afraid you're gonna stink palm me."

Jill arched a brow. "What is a stink palm?"

"You know...you wipe you hand in your sweaty ass crack and shake someone's hand. The smell hangs around like the plague for days."

Her face was droll. It was disgusted.

And finally?

Amused.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I don't hate you enough to have the smell of ass on my hand for days just to passive aggressively torture you."

"Hmm. You gonna wipe that turd under your butt on me if I help you up?"

"...no. Don't flatter yourself, hotstuff. I got better things to do than seek revenge because you're a big fat liar."

Sighing, Leon offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her up but she hobbled so he looped her arm over his shoulder and guided her toward the fountain passed the running trail.

He set her on the edge and was even nice enough to go into the bathroom there to get her some soap for her shorts.

After a few minutes of Jill scrubbing the poop off her butt, she turned to show him. "Good?"

He stood there, breathing hard and staring. A long moment passed and she looked over her shoulder to see if he was paying attention. He was. Raptly.

Blushing a little, she turned away from his gaze.

He laughed, scratching his sweaty chest. "Yeah. Hah. Good."

"Great." She hobbled back to sit on the fountain and take off her shoe. Leon shifted toward her to help when she hissed. He knelt, gingerly pulling her shoe and sock off.

The ankle was a little swollen but when he tilted it and rolled it, it had good range of motion too.

He remarked, quietly, "I don't think it's broken."

Jill shrugged. His sweaty hair spilled into his face where he was kneeling and looking at her foot. She wanted to touch it and smooth it back.

Damn him.

Instead, she remarked, "Thanks."

"Sure." He shifted but didn't let go of her foot. "I didn't lie."

Jill shifted. Great.

GREAT.

She was a hobbling foot hostage. Trapped here and forced to listen to him because she couldn't run away anymore.

He said, "I was young."

Jill rolled her eyes and he caught her calf, squeezing. She whipped her eyes to his face and his hand slid up her calf to her knee. She shifted slightly, breathing hard. "Stop that."

"Then be still and listen."

Owlishly, she watched him rub her ankle and roll it for her. "I was really fucking young. I married her because I was this former fat kid and she was the homecoming queen. She was psycho. Right outta the gate. She was insane. Not high maintenance, Jill, nuts. She started pulling knives on me when we fought and chasing down ANY girl I talked to to threaten her. She was Fatal Attraction insane."

His hand shifted and rubbed the arch of her foot without thinking. "The second I knew she was bat shit crazy, I tried to get out of it. She torched my car. She swallowed my keys to keep me from leaving. She cut her wrist one night when I was nearly out the door..."

He shifted his eyes to her face. "I stayed. What choice was there? I was afraid she'd kill herself."

Softening, Jill touched his face. She poked his sweaty hair behind one ear.

Leon tilted his face to the touch.

It lasted a moment and she dropped her hand.

Her fingers tingled happily.

And he added, "I finally had enough and walked. But I was a coward, I served her with the divorce papers when I was safely away. I ran out on her when she was at work and couldn't stop me. Cowardly and cruel? I don't know. I was done. I needed out."

Jill said, softly, "You could have just told me all that. Before. Before she showed up and threw at me like a weapon."

"Shit. I was ashamed. First that I stuck around in it as long as I did. And second that I ran like a bitch from her. Men don't usually like to admit they ran away like a scared little girl, Jill."

Jill laughed a little, with sympathy. "You let her bad mouth me."

And now he looked ashamed. His hand shifted and slid to grip hers. They blended fingers.

"I did. Habit. And ingrained response. And I didn't want to make a bigger scene. I had no clue she'd go off like that. I never spoke about you to her like you were the one that got away or anything. She had no reason to get in your face. And I'd been sitting behind her watching her explode for so long, I just fell back into it like a fucking idiot."

Jill studied him, quietly. No, she thought, not an idiot. Like the fat little boy who'd needed a friend in the home. He'd caved to a woman that was a bully, he'd stayed with her to be a good guy, he'd run out like a kid fleeing an abusive home. Not an idiot. A kid who was used to being abused and running and hiding.

He was muscular. He was ungodly handsome. He was funny and sweet and gentle. And he was still that little boy inside. The one looking for someone to love him.

She was so sorry they'd been apart all this time.

Because he'd been learning to be so strong when she'd left him. And he'd just never finished getting there.

With a little seed of regret, Jill said, "It's ok. I get it now. I get it. But..."

He shifted. She shifted.

And she finished, "It doesn't change anything. I'm with Chris. Now? I'm with Chris."

He nodded and he was so sad. It was all over him. It was all over her.

She loved Chris. She liked Chris alot. He was her buddy. He was her lover.

It didn't change the want in her for Leon Kennedy.

He said, "I meant what I said Jill. I came all this way for my friend. That's all I want here."

They studied each other and he added, "Ok. It's not all I want. That's a lie. But it's what I need. Stay in my life, however you can. That's all I'm asking."

A bird cawed somewhere. She tugged and pulled him in. They hugged, slick and sweaty. He eased between her legs to hold on. She put her face against his neck and breathed.

And she said, "I'm gonna punch that bitch in the face next time I see her."

"Oh...god...please. I'll pay you to do it. I'll film it and put it up on youtube. Please. A million dollars."

"You don't have a million dollars, you broke ass. You're lucky if you have a nickle."

"I'll sell a kidney for it. I'll sell plasma. I'll sell sperm."

Jill leaned back and looked at his face. He as grinning.

And he quipped, "You wanna buy some Grade-A for sperm? Your kids might be fat, fair warning."

Her eyes twinkled, her nose crinkled, and he wanted to kiss her. He figured that would fade with time. Maybe.

Probably not.

But maybe.

And she mused, "When did you get so fucking charming?"

He laughed and winked at her, "Former fat kids have to work on the conversational skills, dollface. We learn to be people pleasers. Want to hear some of my pick up lines?"

"Oh, lord, I'm kinda afraid."

"Did you just fart, girl? Cause you blew me away!" He said it in a bad Brooklyn accent. Her mouth twitched. But he didn't stop there.

"Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written alllll over you."

Her eyes twitched. She felt her lips purse.

"Do you live in a cornfield? Cause I'm stalking you."

Jill started to shake a little bit with the need to laugh.

And went ahead and finished her off. "The word of the day is legs, baby. Let's go home together and spread the word."

He winked and made a clucking sound with his tongue. He finger gunned her and hooted.

And she just started laughing. She fell against him, giggling like mad. He gripped her, laughing with her. She shook her head when it passed finally and leaned back to look at him.

Their faces were inches apart.

She said, chuckling, "That was nearly as bad as the first time I saw the Phantom Menance."

Leon widened his eyes, "Don't. Don't even get me started. We'll be here all day while my rage of hate for that awful cluster fuck burns us alive."

Jill grinned. Leon grinned.

And his eyes dropped to her mouth.

She stopped breathing for a minute. He leaned a little toward her. She didn't exactly lean away. Her hammering heart said PFSDLIGT! Because apparently in moments of great confusion and stress, even her organs spoke gibberish.

A fat guy ran down the path and farted so loud it startled them both. It sounded like an airhorn mixed with a wet plop.

It also broke the moment.

She grinned. He grinned.

And they just started laughing again.

He helped her to her bike. She considered and said, "I can't ride it. Not with this bum foot."

Leon considered it sagely and said, "Ok. I'll be the gracious guy here and give you a ride to your place."

"Thank you. You big hero."

He scooped her up and set her in his Jeep. She settled and seatbelted in.

The ride was easy. It was good to be easy with him. They talked about stupid and mundane things. He mentioned some of the rookies at the station having a contest to see who could bang the most chics.

Jill lifted her brows at him.

Leon glanced at the road, her face, and back at the road. He shook his head. "Not me, Valentine. I said _some_ of them. Not me."

"Mmm-hmm. Sure. Your wife doesn't like other women, rookie, remember that when you're running around town and hiking your leg to pee all over unsuspecting tramps."

He rolled the Jeep up in front of her building. He considered the image. She laughed.

"Redfield seems like the type to pee on a woman, admittedly. He pee on you?"

Jill shook her head, snorting. "Not yet. But I'll keep ya updated."

"Clearly he doesn't understand the rules of dog world. You pee on your bitch man. He has a week. Otherwise?" Leon gestured with both thumbs, "This alpha dog is gonna urinate all over your ass."

Jill couldn't stop the laughing now. She leaned her head on his arm, adoring him. "Well...I already had shit on my ass. So it makes sense to add some piss. Like peanut butter and jelly right?"

Disgusted, amused, Leon picked her up without straining and carried her up the stairs to her building. There were benefits to be in fantastic shape, she thought , here was one very big one. White knight syndrome - clearly.

He set her down at her door. She looped her arms around his waist and hugged him.

And the door of the apartment opened.

There was the other alpha dog.

And he looked plenty ready to take a piss on her.

Chris remarked, casually, "Oh, shit man, am I interrupting? Maybe we should call your wife, Kennedy, and invite her over so I can hug her. Keep things even."

Jill let go of Leon with a roll of her eyes. She turned to Chris and shoved on his chest, "Take it back in the house testosterone man. We're saying goodbye. I sprained my ankle in the park and he brought me home. Don't be a jealous asshat."

Leon grinned happily, "Good to see you, sir. Looking forward to work this morning."

Chris gave him a narrow look, "Yeah? Good news about that - you're on shit detail. Literal. They need help with a murder scene at the dump. Congrats, kid, it's all you."

Leon kept the grin in place, "You're too kind, sir. Always helping me keep humble and do my duty. Thank you for your consideration. I'll see you at work, Jill. With a full bladder."

She laughed, musically, and stole his fucking heart.

Chris gave him a wolfish grin and slammed the door in his face.

And Leon felt better than he had in days.

It was going to be a beautiful day at the dump. He couldn't wait to stop and smell the garbage.

In the apartment, Chris stood with his arms crossed looking at Jill hobbling to the shower. He listened to her get in and fire up the water.

She called above the spray, "Stop right now. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. We're friends. He and I are friends. That's it. I promised we'd do this thing, you and I. But he's still my friend."

"Totally wrong, Valentine. I'm not thinking about him at all. You see him in this shower?"

She laughed a little bit. "Not at the moment. You want me to call him back though? He's probably not even to his car yet."

"I want you to stop thinking about him. Right now."

The fluffy heat eased back as he climbed in the shower. She turned and he put her against the wall. He lifted her leg and filled her up while she bucked and gasped in his arms.

It wasn't peeing on her, but it did the job.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I'm trying this thing where I make smaller chapters. So, that means things may update quicker and definitely be smaller. I'm aiming to try to keep things 3000 words or less a chapter (for a girl who's written ones where they were 10000+ at times, it's an endeavor.)_

 _Addtionally, my pop culture references are as askew as my story here. I reference things that were, clearly, not around in 98. Haha. It's ok. It's all in good fun. Willing Suspension of Disbelief my friends. Keep the fun rolling._

 _…._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANY ONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Seven: In Which We Find A Cat Fight, A Cat Nap, and An Unexpected Balloon Ride_**

The dump was a beautiful place.

The smell of rotten funk and garbage was putrescent. It was thick and cloying. It was sending plumes of crap and rot up into the sterling sky while Leon waited in his uniform for the detectives (affectionately called "dics" by the bullpen) were busy being gumshoes and Law & Order type guys and searching for clues and what not.

One of the other rookies, Pete Hanson - a hippie looking type guy with long blonde hair and a rangy skinny build that reminded Leon of Tom Petty, stood with him whistling and leafing through an issue of Hustler he'd found in a box of discarded magazines somewhere. Leon was craving a smoke, big time, but it didn't seem right to light up a few feet from a dead, mutilated and disgusting, body.

Pete mused, "Someone killed the fuck outta that guy, man."

A true statement.

Crass and somewhat sophomoric, but accurate.

One of the Dics came over the rise and eyeballed them, "Rookies!"

Pete jumped and dumped his magazine. Leon turned and kept his carriage straight and respectful "Sir?"

"Comb the area east of here. There's evidence he was dragged. I want patterns, footprints, any possibility of dumped weapon. It looks, initially, like a slashing. Big time. Huge weapon of some kind with a wide curved blade."

Pete answered, "Like a chainsaw?"

The Dic lifted his brows at Leon. Leon shook his head and replied, "No, Pete. Like a scythe or something."

The Dic nodded, "Exactly. Get to it."

He turned in his ugly brown coat and went back to the body.

Leon and Pete started combing the area. Lots of horrible things to see in a dump, of course, from used condoms to used cat sweaters (...why?) to maggot infested food left too long in the sun. The summer heat made the smell almost unbearable.

Leon didn't care.

Couldn't care.

He'd come to Raccon City with six bucks, a bit of a smoking problem, an idea of finding a girl he hadn't seen in years, and a crazy mostly ex-wife he'd hoped to never see again.

In the short space of time he'd lived here, he'd spent the six bucks on a lottery ticket (won and made ten bucks back on the deal), went from half a pack a day to a quarter, found the girl- and lost her to hairy backed gorilla who was his boss, and been located by the crazy bitch he'd left behind.

But it was all ok.

It was.

Because this morning he'd found his best friend again.

He figured, he could wait out the hairy backed gorilla. The guy was dumber than a box of hair and twice as slow as a turtle. They had nothing in common, him and Jill, nothing. He didn't even like to go on runs with her. He hated the theater, and Jill loved nothing more than a live stage show, he hated hiking, and Jill had a passion for it in spades, he watched bad daytime talk shows, ate shitty food, and generally treated himself like his grungy body couldn't break down.

If cholesterol and clogged arteries didn't get him first, Chris Redfield would screw himself eventually being an alpha douche bag trying to prove to the world he was tough.

All Leon had to do was wait in the on deck position for him to stick his foot so far down his throat he choked on it, and Jill would be all his again.

He had all the time in the world man. The worst thing that happened in Raccoon City was too much rain, the occasional drunken hobo killing in the dump, and Chris Redfield.

He had nothing to worry about.

* * *

When Leon returned to the station, he reported to the S.T.A.R.S. office for more orders.

Barry Burton was sitting at his desk eating a sandwich. Redfield was sleeping in his chair. And Jill was working on reports at her desk.

Burton glanced up as he entered, discounted him, and went back to doing his crossword.

Leon paused, looking over Jill's shoulder at what she was writing. It was doodling. She was doodling a rather large phallic shaped appendage onto a stick man with a fat belly. Early guesses said it was Chief Irons.

And the phallic shaped appendage was poking him right in his fat ass.

Amused, Leon leaned over her shoulder and said quietly, next to her ear, "You missed your calling."

She jumped, her face flushed with surprise, and her little beret slipped on her hair as she turned her head to him.

And then she smiled, all teeth, "Did I?"

"Mmm. You have real possibilities as an artist."

Jill laughed, lightly, "Hmm. See my stick man here?"

"Oh, yeah. He's super detailed."

Again, she laughed, "That's as good as it gets, guy. No better."

"In other news - the dick you were drawing? Super accurate."

Jill bumped her forehead to his cheek. "We draw what we know."

Leon laughed, winking at her. "You even gave that cock veins, kid."

"It's for posterity sake, clearly, needs to be medically correct."

"It looks medically "erect" so..."

Jill laughed and he rubbed her back with a wink. Finally, she whispered, "You want me to wake the kraken over there?"

Leon considered it, he tilted his head where she was crouched beside her. She laid her cheek on his head like a hug.

Finally, Leon mused, "You got a cookie?"

Jill lifted her brows, considering him, "Why?"

"If you wake it, it usually wakes hungry right? Maybe if I feed it a cookie, it won't try to bite my head off."

Jill grinned, delighted. "I usually wake it like this."

She kicked Chris' chair legs. His eyes flew open, his arms pinwheeled, and his chair went over onto its back. Jill ducked her head and went back to work. Leon stood by the door, bored faced and at attention.

Barry paused with his sandwich to his mouth and snorted out a laugh.

Jill mused, tonelessly, "Real smooth, Redfield. That'll teach you to sleep on the tax payer's dime."

Chris set his chair up, lips pursed. He narrowed his eyes at her. She kept on writing without looking up.

Leon didn't even glance over. He just kept standing by the door.

Finally, Chris remarked, "Rookie, what the hell are you doing here? Go down to Vice and help them process the hookers."

"Absolutely, sir. Anything I can do to help."

He left the room without looking back. Jill kept on writing. Barry said, offhandedly, "You shoulda sent the kid to the Hot Air Balloon Festival downtown. Nothing worse than standing around watching dumb shits set up balloons."

Chris considered it for a minute and leaned out the office door. "YO! ROOKIE!"

Several turned and he rolled his eyes. "Kennedy!"

The kid turned, eyeing him. "Go downtown and stand guard with your fellow baby cops at the festival after you process hookers for an hour."

Leon nodded and called, loudly, drawing attention, "Yes sir! I look forward to serving the force in any way they need me sir! Thank you for this opportunity!"

Annoyed, Chris slammed the office door, "That fucking kid is unflappable."

Jill smirked.

He eyed her narrowly, "I know you kicked my chair, Valentine."

Jill shrugged, not looking up, "Prove it."

He laughed and took his seat at his desk. She eyed him over the desk.

And they both grinned.

He answered, twirling his pencil in his fingers, "You know what's comin right?"

Jill pursed her lips, eyes twinkling, "Bring it, Redfield. I can take anything you throw at me."

Maybe the wrong thing to say. Maybe. The humor on his face blended with a little devilish delight. "Oh, no argument there. But maybe I've been taking it easy on you so far."

Curious, Jill set down her pen and leaned back in her chair, "Oh?"

"Hmm. Think you can handle the full throttle?"

"Oh, and than some. Show me whatcha got, tough guy."

He smirked. She laughed lightly.

She suspected it was double entendre. Which...made her happy in her pants.

He glanced at Barry. He glanced at her. She lifted her brows.

And Chris Redfield winked at her.

There was the happy in her pants again. She slid her hand over the desk. He slid his, they brushed fingers, and her arm tingled.

A good day.

She wondered what would happen when they got home later. Her mind said: You know what happens at home - he feeds you, he fucks you bowlegged...he doesn't bring his drama or his ex-wives home to make you sad.

Of course, to get there, she'd have to survive whatever horrible pranks he had in store for her during the day.

To avoid it, she excused herself and went downtown to assist at the balloon festival.

She was eating a corndog and wandering among the various booths, watching kids get their faces painted, and couples take silly pictures. She stopped to observe a caricature artist at work and paid him to do a picture of Chris from a photo in her pocket. Carrying the silly sketch, she heard the shouting.

The wind was high. The day was warm.

And somebody was losing their balloon.

The basket was lifting, the balloon was tugged free from its stakes, Jill started running to stop it...and she wasn't the only one.

She leaped in the basket with an OOMPH. It kept on lifting up and a second later a pair of hands and arms leveraged Leon Kennedy in after her.

He fell into the basket and they were now headed upward while people shouted on the ground beneath them.

Jill eyed him across the basket, grinning, "You plan this?"

Curious, he lifted a brow at her, "You think I'm that stupid?"

"This is stupid?"

"Uh...we're stuck in a hot air balloon high above the city. I can't pilot this thing can you?"

Now she looked highly entertained. "Nope."

"So...instead of "spontaneous" and "romantic" this kind of move would than be known as: stupid."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. He eased across the basket where she was sitting by the side. She tilted her head at him.

"Whatcha doin there?"

"It's bound to be cold up here. Just...ya know...movin over in case you want to share warmth."

Her eyes twinkled, happily. "It's high summer."

"Ah. Yes. But high altitudes can get quite chilly."

"In summer?"

"That's the rumor."

"Seems shady to me."

"That hurts my feelings, Valentine. I'm wounded."

Jill laughed and rose, looking out over the city. It was, without a doubt, the best view she'd ever seen. He rose beside her, and their arms brushed. She tilted her head against his shoulder.

"God damn that's beautiful." He breathed.

And she nodded, laughing, "Never seen anything like it right?"

"...not in my life, honestly."

She tilted her eyes and found him looking at her. Her heart sped a little bit. She half smiled at him, "Charmer. I meant the view."

"I'm seein the view, kid. And never saw anything better."

Their hands turned over and gripped, lightly. A good day, she thought, to repair a friendship and laugh alot and take a balloon ride with an old friend. A good day.

Nothing could spoil it.

There was a jerk on the basket, a grunt, and another pair of hands appeared.

Alyssa Ashcroft oophed her way into their balloon, smiling like a cat. "Oh. I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

Unless you found out Leon Kennedy's soon to be ex-wife was climbing into your basket.

Turns out? That could spoil anything.

Jill tried to drop his hand. He kept on holding on.

Alyssa glanced between them. She smirked, like the Cheshire Cat. "You two up here playing footsie? Aren't you Redfield's girl?"

Jill eyed her, narrow eyed, "I'm my own girl, thanks. And we're friends, not that it's any of your business, why don't you jump out of this basket and do us all a favor?"

Alyssa laughed, happy as a clam, "You pissy little thing, you think you can finally pull your balls outta your back pocket and take me on?"

Jill let go of his hand. She stepped, smiling wide and pretty. "Oh, honey, you caught me unaware before...I'll admit, up to that point, I think we had no real secrets, Leon and I, so that knocked the wind out of me for a second. But I don't get blindsided twice. And I don't back down from a loud mouth bitch."

"Really? You backed down that day."

"Did I? I'm pretty sure I just stood there like a statue. I don't recall backing down. But let's see what you're made of, Glenn Close. Show me how fucking crazy you are."

Alyssa laughed. The balloon sailed happily above the Arklay Forest. Leon tried to step in the middle.

And Alyssa charged.

Jill braced for it, Leon caught his ex-wife to stop her, and Alyssa kneed him right in the balls.

Jill winced, Leon lost his breath and went to one side, and the bitch he'd been married to came at her.

Alyssa wasn't all that bad, actually. She didn't, entirely, fight like a girl. She threw a punch, Jill drove a shoulder into her sternum and threw her back, and Alyssa smacked her in the face with the other hand.

It rang, Jill rolled to her back, and she short leg kicked the other woman in the gut from the ground.

Alyssa grunted, hit the compartment where the compressor was kept for the balloon and nearly fell in, and the balloon veered in a circle from the struggle on board.

Jill waited as Alyssa pushed off and came at her again. She foot swept the former Mrs. Kennedy and threw her to the ground on her face. As Alyssa struggled, Jill drove a knee into her back, put her weight on her, and jerked Alyssa's arm up behind her shoulders.

"You're done, bitch. Stay down before I really hurt you. You think I'm some farmer's daughter with a crush on your man here? I'm not just a pretty face."

Alyssa spit at her and Leon said from the ground where he was leaning. "God. Break her arm. Please. Do us both a favor."

Jill laughed and the a gust of wind hit the veering balloon. They went sharply left into the trees over the forest.

Jill said, "Leon?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how to get us higher?"

"Nope."

"Shit."

They watched the line of trees get closer.

He agreed, quietly, "Shit sounds about right."

And they hit the trees above the forest. The branches were swift, brutal, knocking into the basket and ripping at the chords that bound the balloon. They stopped fighting amongst themselves as they tried to hold on.

The balloon whipped in a circle, bound up by branches and leafy tree tops canopies. It swirled in the window, it snapped as the ties broke, and the basket dipped to one side.

Alyssa shouted and grabbed for Jill. Jill caught her arm and grabbed for a tree. Leon pushed off the basket, leaping, and grabbed for the big branch above him. His hand shot down and Jill caught it, swinging, and Alyssa lost her grip.

She shrieked. She fell. She hit the line of trees and was gone.

Horrified, Jill dangled. Leon had his legs looped over the branch and was, literally, dangling upside to hold on to her.

The balloon groaned. The basket cracked. And, like London Bridge before it, it all fell down.

The forest echoed with the crash of it. Birds squawked and took flight. The compresser in the basket popped, hissed, and erupted in a burp of flame somewhere below the tree line.

And then?

Silence.

Jill, swaying in his grip, whispered, "Can you see her?"

Leon shook his head, "I can't see anything."

"Oh god...oh GOD...is she dead?"

"I don't know."

Their hands gripped hard. Jill was shaking a little.

She queried, "What the hell do we do now?"

Leon, without missing a beat, answered, "I'm thinking we "hang'around for a little while."

Jill shook her head.

Down below, she heard a voice call, "Hello!?"

Alyssa.

Jill breathed a sigh of relief, "Are you ok!?"

Alyssa answered back, "I am. I think. I fell in a heavy canopy. I'm gonna try to get down. Are you guys ok?"

Leon called back, "Been better. But we're "hangin" in there."

Jill gave him a droll look. He grinned a little and had her snorting out a laugh.

After a moment, he mused, "You want to try climbing up me?"

Jill lifted her brows, smiling. "Do I?"

"I can't keep hanging upside down. Eventually the blood in my head will explode out my ears or something."

It was a good point. She shifted her grip on him. Her hands grabbed his uniform vest. His shifted and gripped her belt. He kinda tossed her up a little and she grabbed him around the waist.

Admittedly, it was an interesting position.

His face? Right in her crotch. Hers? The same.

She kinda laughed.

He did too, muffled.

And he mused, "I pictured my face in your lap alot lately. This? Not exactly how I saw it."

Jill rolled her eyes and grabbed at his knees. She leveraged herself up on the big limb, straddled it and reached down to swing him up.

He sat across from her, legs dangling.

They were both red faced and smiling.

Leon said, "Sorry about Basic Instinct down there."

Jill grinned, eyes twinkling, "S'ok. She fights like a girl and hits like a bitch."

Down below, Alyssa called up to them, "There's a big...house!? Or something this way. I'm gonna go knock and see if they have a phone."

She was talking about the mansion out there, of course. The "castle." Jill felt she should warn her it was empty.

But she just called back, "Ok! Good idea!"

And Alyssa returned, "Hang tight! It's probably better up there anyway! It smells like an old man's ass down here!"

Jill pursed her lips. Leon grinned a little.

And Jill remarked, "Ah. She has your stupid sense of humor. Hence the marriage."

Leon shifted on the limb, "The marriage came about with a desperate nerd trying to be cool. Alyssa? She's all sarcasm and bitchy remarks. Maybe we'll get lucky and there'll be a Frankenstein in the castle that wants her for his bride."

Jill grinned, "You'd give her up!?" She feigned shock, "She's your _wife._ "

Without missing a beat, he answered, watching her face, "I married the wrong girl."

Jill felt her heartbeat in her throat, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I spent years looking for the right one. Turns out? I was too late."

Goodness.

They studied each other in the fading sunlight. Night was coming quick, leaving the horizon red and orange like spilling blood.

Jill whispered, softly, "Well maybe it's time to start looking again."

He tilted his head. She tilted hers.

And Leon smiled, "Maybe. That waitress at J's Bar asked me out last night. Cindy?"

Jill shifted but kept her face blank. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm thinkin about it. She's cute right?"

"Oh, yeah. Cindy's a good girl."

"Yeah. Why not? Maybe I can win the contest after all huh?"

They held eyes again. Jill shook her head, turning to look down again, "Why not? What's stopping ya huh?"

Love, he thought, love is. Stupid girl. But he was a patient guy. There was plenty of time for her to come around. And nothing stopping him from enjoying the company of other women while he waited.

He was in love with her. He wasn't a eunuch.

Leon shrugged a shoulder, "Common decency, most likely. But dating a nice girl sounds ok. I'll let her take me out. I'm broke anyway. At the least, it's a free meal."

Jill laughed, lightly, "You're so charming. Seriously."

"It's a gift."

Jill speculated, "When we get down, you any good at finding our way back to town?"

Leon shrugged, unconcerned, "You were military right? Shouldn't I follow you?"

"Would you?" She lifted a brow, curious.

And Leon mused, "Well...following a lady's lead isn't usually my style...but you gotta an ass like the North Star, baby. Wise men are gonna follow it."

Jill felt her mouth twitch. Leon grinned, wide, wider, all teeth. She laughed and rolled her eyes and groaned.

A good day, she thought, psycho ex, broken balloon, potentially pissed off boyfriend's waiting at home and all.

A good day.

Nothing could spoil it.

And then the screaming started.

It came from the castle.

They looked at each other in the shadows and the dusk - and they both knew who was screaming.

And it filled the air around them as the last kiss of sunlight fled the horizon and brought the darkness around them in a chilly embrace.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: So, I love the triangle, clearly, it's my thing. I had this brain fart the other night on how this weirdo tale ends. The nachos I was eating inspired Absolution, Haunting Ground, Obscurity, Not a Hero, and somehow my newest story. Thems were some good nachos._

 _I know how this story ends. After our weird trip to the castle (additionally, originally the concept for Resident Evil 4 involved Leon and his team emerging into a castle run by Albert Wesker (the Spencer Estate we come to find the end of our sweet Jilly in Lost in Nightmares) and a female with B.O.W. dog. How is this NOT Haunting Ground!? And it is ENTIRELY the basis for this story coupled with Haunting Ground itself.) In case we're curious, that does, indeed, mean Jilly gets a dog when we get to the castle. Probably Bob the Pug who makes an appearance in my other stories occasionally (and is named after my pug, Bob)._

 _…._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Eight: In Which We Find A Missing Ex, A Little Sex, and a Scary Foreshadowing_**

The cold seeped into the bones. Jill couldn't believe the temperature drop. The summer heat was gone. It was lost beneath a swirling burst of fog that brought a chill with that infiltrated the bones.

When you breathed, your breath was a condensed cloud of white.

Jill could hear something snuffling like a pig at the base of the tree. Alyssa's screams were long past.

Occasionally, the thing at the base of the tree would grunt and possibility speak. Not a pig. A human?

That might have been a stretch too.

Jill could see Leon in the encroaching dark, watching her. She whispered, softly, "What the hell is it?"

"I don't know. I can't see anything down there."

"Is it waiting for us?!"

"Maybe. You want to climb down?"

"You kidding? No. EVER."

They were in agreement there.

They were also, apparently, trapped up the tree in the cold dark. It was a helluva place to be.

* * *

Chris was eating nachos. They were crunchy and charmingly covered in gunky cheese and pimentos, jalapenos, black beans and rice, bacon, sour cream, guacamole, Texas Pete, sriracha, and two kinds of salsa. He was munching away, waiting for his ass to erupt fire onto Brad who was machine gun typing behind him at his desk, when the call came in.

Barry winced and glanced over, "Red?"

"Yeah, sup?"

"...your cholesterol, first off. But besides that? Your girlfriend is missing."

Chris paused with the chip near his mouth. He stared blankly. "What did you say?"

"A balloon went missing from the festival. Early reports put your girlfriend in it...with the rookie." Barry looked a little afraid of the answer he was going to get.

Chris licked his teeth. He had lost his appetite.

He'd LOST HIS APPETITE. His nachos? Wasted.

"You saying my woman is in a basket in the air with the world's stupidest recruit?"

Joseph shifted over, grinning, "I think he's saying your woman is in Leon Kennedy's basket guy."

Brad patted him on the shoulder, roughly. "It's ok, Redfield. It is. I heard he's the type to fuck 'em and forget 'em. So, she'll get the D, and be yesterdays news. Worst case? You get sloppy seconds. But it's better than nothing right?"

To emphasize his point, Brad was kind enough to lay some ass on Chris and cut one loose. It smelled like rotten eggs and old cheese. He laid, like cloud of stench and ruin, right on Chris' nachos.

Chris, without batting an eye, kicked him square in the ass for it. Brad hit Jill's desk, flipped over it, and face planted on the floor. Joseph was roaring with laughter.

Barry was snickering.

And Chris said, "Get the mother fucking chopper. We're on a rescue mission."

"Who are we saving her from?" Queried Brad from the floor.

"The former fat kid who keeps putting his hands on what's mine. Clearly, he doesn't understand the rules."

Barry was amused, rising to follow them to the helipad, "What's the rules?"

"Jill's "basket"? That's STARS only, man. No fucking rookies allowed."

Brad quipped, grinning, "I think they'll be plenty of "fucking" by that rookie in her basket, alright."

Without missing a beat, Chris shoved Brad into the coffee cart in the second floor walk up. Brad hit it, tripped, and brought it with him to the floor in a clatter of noise. The creamer spilled all over his face and uniform and Joseph mused, chortling, "That's not the first time Brad's got a face full of cream, my friends."

Chris shouted over the banister to the bull pen, "YO! FORREST!"

Forrest Speyer looked up, all skinny elbows and greasy hair in a ponytail. Probably the ugliest dude on the force, and maybe Chris' best pal. "REDFIELLLLD! SUP!?"

"Get your mother fucking sniper rifle and meet me on deck!"

Barry was laughing, so hard. "You gonna shoot the rookie!?"

"Nope. Forrest is."

It was fixing to be a bad night for Leon Kennedy.

* * *

Something was sniffling in the dirt down there. They knew that. They were ready for it. It would, eventually, scent them up in their tree.

Jill whispered, "I hate you a little."

Leon eyed her in the dark, "How so?"

"You and this damn balloon. I could be in my pajamas watching American Idol."

Amused, Leon smirked, "I'm insulted. You prefer bad British judges over me?"

"I prefer my pajams over sitting in a tree in the cold while a snarfling pig monster waits to eat us." She stared at him, "We got your wife killed."

Leon shifted, "Jury's out on that, Jill. She might be ok."

"She's dead. We know it. Say it. She's dead. We got her killed."

Her eyes were too wide. He scooted forward and took her face. His gloved hands were warm. Her skin was freezing. "We don't _know_ that, Jill. Stop saying it."

She was shaking a little, "Leon...what the hell is down there?"

In the home, she'd been so strong. She was the ass kicker. The nametaker. The bitch on wheels. Here, in the forest, she was a scared girl looking for reassurance. And it was his turn to be the tough one.

"Nothing we can't handle. Nothing. You hear me? I won't let it take you, whatever it is. I won't let it _touch_ you, I swear to god."

He scooted a little closer. She moved in and curled against his chest, breathing. In one hand, it was nice and warm against him. In the other, she felt like a nightmare was beginning she couldn't even understand.

She wanted that bitch out of the picture, no lie there. Not like this. Humiliated in public? You bet. But not dead. Not dead.

Not dead.

Jill's fingers curled into his uniform. "Leon?"

"Hmm?" She smelled like apples and corndog. It was a good smell. He shifted his nose a little behind her ear.

And he wanted to be sorry if Alyssa was dead. He did. But he had nothing left in him for her. That bitch was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Dead was awful. It was sick to think it. But he felt NOTHING thinking of it.

He was, officially, an asshole.

"Chris will come find us."

Leon blinked in the dark. "What?"

"He'll come find us. The thing about him? He never lets you down."

Shit.

Leon licked his teeth, gnashing them a little. Redfield. Mr. Reliable. Mr. Hateful Asshat with Bad Hair. Leon had a very visceral image of punching him in his stupid face and watching him spit teeth on the ground.

"We can't rely on that, Jill. We have to move eventually here. We have to decide what to do."

She breathed, "You can rely on Chris. You don't have to like him. It's ok. It is. But he will never fail me."

SHIT.

What was in her voice? What was that?

Leon had to ask it. He had to ask. It needed said, "Jill...are you in love with him?"

Jill lifted her head. They held eyes in the moonlight. And she whispered, "I don't know. Maybe. I love him. I loved him the second I met him. You have to love him. He just...he sticks. And he doesn't push. He just rolls with it. I don't know what else there is."

Leon studied her face. He tilted her up to him. She made a small sound and he kissed her, soft, smooth. Her fingers gripped his vest. She breathed and melted, shaking.

He let her go, earnest now, "There's that. There's THAT, Jill. Tell me you don't feel that."

"Leon..." She felt it. She just didn't know what it meant.

"Do you feel that when you're with him?"

She cupped his face. His hands slid over hers and held. What was the right answer here? She went with the truth, because it was the whole core of who they were to each other. "...oh, Leon...I'm so sorry. I do. I do. It's not that simple anymore. He matters, Leon. He matters. He's good to me. I can't say goodbye to him because of what I feel for you. I can't. It's not that easy."

Jesus.

His heart. It felt like being kicked in the chest by a buffalo. Leon touched his forehead to hers. "I know that. I know it. I'm still here, Jill. I'm still here. But I'll back off. I'll stop fighting. If that's what you want..."

Oh.

Oh god. She didn't know if she wanted that either. She didn't know. She knew she loved him. She knew she loved Chris. She knew it was hard to stand between them and let one go. But she'd made her choice. She'd chosen.

She wouldn't hurt Chris to go with Leon. She couldn't. She wasn't ready for that either.

And so she whispered, "Be my friend. Be my friend, Leon. Please. That's all I can offer you right now."

So it was the on deck position for him. And it was worse somehow. Because he knew now that Redfield? That mother fucker mattered to her. He was something more than a stupid alpha dog with a nacho obsession who liked to haze the shit outta rookies.

He mattered.

And that hurt worse than anything Leon had ever felt in his life.

"I'm here, Jill. That doesn't change. I'll move on. And we'll be ok, I promise."

Oh.

Her heart.

It felt like she was being ripped in half. She hated it. She hated this. She curled her arms around him and clung. "I'm so sorry."

"Jill...don't look back. What does looking back get us?"

She shook her head and couldn't find the words. Because she wanted to keep holding on a little longer.

* * *

She fell asleep in his arms. He sat with his back against the tree staring into the dark.

So that was how it went. It was the fat friend versus the most popular dude in STARS. How did you win that fight?

How?

His brain said: You know how to win. You know the answer. You get her to stop looking at Redfield. You get her to start looking at you.

The best way to do that?

Good, old fashioned...jealousy.

He put his face in her neck where she was leaning back against his chest. He breathed her in. She shifted and murmured, snuggling.

He could let her go. He could. It was the right thing to do. A good guy would let her go.

He'd stopped being a good guy years ago. He only knew one way to go down: swinging.

Or? On Jill Valentine.

* * *

The lights woke them. It was the lights from the chopper. It hovered so close. The wind tossed the trees and their hair and their clothes.

Jill came awake, squinting. She laughed and waved her arms. "HERE! HERE! CHRIS!"

It was Chris alright, he wasn't piloting the chopper though. That was Brad. Chris?

He was kneeling in the doorway with Forrest's sniper rifle. She blinked. Forrest was whooping like an Indian.

And she shouted, "DON'T YOU DARE!"

Leon figured, that was one way to lose, blown away by an angry ogre stuck up a tree like a pussy.

The rifle went off. Jill shouted and threw herself over him like she'd take the bullet.

And something down below them screamed. It screamed in rage. It smashed into their tree and had them grabbing to hold on. And they heard it run.

They heard it rip through the trees toward the castle.

Jill felt the thunder of her heart. He hadn't shot Leon. He'd shot the thing threatening their life. In the pitch dark. In the wind. From god knows how far away.

Why?

Because he was just that fucking good. And he never failed you.

The ladder came down. Jill went up first.

She reached the top and Chris pulled her in. His face. She didn't like it. He was looking at her with something she'd never seen before. What?

Leon climbed in.

It would have been ok. Maybe. But Forrest opened his big mouth, "Dude - you got a lotta nerve scammin on my main dog's goodies."

Leon laughed, unflappable, "Jesus. How can she say no to someone who refers to her as goodies?"

He turned. And he really should have seen it coming.

Chris punched him clean in the face.

Jill shouted and shoved him away. Leon went down like he'd been hit in the face by a hammer. Forrest hooted and whooped with laughter.

And Barry shouted, "CHRIS! Enough of that shit, you hotheaded dumbass! You kidding me!?"

Chris said nothing. He gave Jill a long look.

She shook her head and shoved him again. And she knelt by Leon. "Oh, my god, are you alright?"

Derisively, he laughed from the floor where he lay. "You know...it has NOT been the best day for me. I must have seriously pissed off someone in another life to keep paying the price in this one."

Jill shook her head, touching his swollen face, "I'm so sorry."

"No sorry, Jill. That's not our way either. You guy over there? He's just pissing on you and marking his territory."

She glanced at Chris. He was staring out into the dark, avoiding her.

Her heart. It just kept right on ripping in half.

They circled and circled and circled, looking for Alyssa. But she was gone. She was just gone. In the dark, they were limited on how long and how far they could search. How got out of their chopper in the dark forest and went searching in the dead of the night with weird things loose in the shadows? (*cough*)

And there was way too much silence on the short flight back to the RPD.

* * *

At the apartment, she heard him head to his room. He closed the door swiftly with a snap.

Jill jumped and winced.

She breathed out. She breathed in.

She went down the hallway.

The door wasn't locked, so that was the good news.

He was kicking off his boots, shirtless, and throwing his uniform in the closet. His room was an utter mess, as always, and somewhat startling to see the piles of clothes, magazines, plates and cups and crap that littered all available surfaces like butterflies marking the line of death.

He turned to her in the low light from the desk. "Just do it."

"What?"

"End it. It's what you're here for right? To end it. To dump me. Do it. So I can get drunk and pass out already."

Jill shook her head. She moved into the room. He shifted, watching her. Her arm hooked around his waist and dragged him to her. She went up on tiptoe and slapped his face.

Surprised, he let it ring.

It was pretty loud.

"Shut up, you stupid man. Shut up."

His hands grabbed her face. He pulled her up until she was on point.

And he licked her mouth.

Jill shivered, hands gripping into his back. "Shut up, Redfield. And don't say that shit to me again, do you hear me?"

He said nothing, watching her eyes.

He kissed her, nipping at her mouth. It sank into her toes. She said again, softly, "You gonna make a fight here, now?"

His arm looped around her and lifted her against his front. She grabbed his ears and jerked, hard. And he hissed, "Don't break my heart, Jill. I'll feed that idiot my boot via his asshole, I swear to god."

Amused, Jill kissed him and had him grunting. "A swift kick in the ass?"

"More than. I'll break my foot off in it. You're mine."

Oh. A weird feeling, that possessiveness.

He said it again, gruff, "Mine, Jill. Don't test me."

She wasn't sure she liked this side of him. He bit at her mouth again and it made her shake in his arms.

So, maybe she liked it a little.

A little.

"Don't threaten me, Redfield. Nobody owns me."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

She waited for him to throw her down and prove it. She THROBBED, waiting for it. But he didn't do that at all.

He softened, he spilled, and he kissed her long and wet. She made a small sound and curled around him, her legs lifting to loop at his waist.

He set her down on the dresser. He guided her face up to him. His hand scooped her hair back, spilling her beret to the floor. She gripped his biceps, watching him in the dark

And he breathed, "I love you, Jill. Not a little. A lot. Too much. I won't share you with him. Now, ever. All in, that was the deal."

Scary.

And very real.

She breathed, hoarsely, "All in. That was the deal."

He kissed her, sinking instead of stealing. She moaned softly and opened for him.

He leaned back, watching her eyes. "In or out, Jill. In or out."

And she whispered, no hesitation, "In, you idiot. All in. That was the deal."

Afraid of it, she felt the shift of him. She felt the change. She felt the spill of it. It scared her more than being in the tree in the dark. It scared her.

Because all in meant no escape.

It meant he had all of her.

They spilled back on the bed and it was needy now, and desperate. It was warm and tingling. It was stroking hands and smearing kisses and moonlight on mating hips.

He didn't just take her. He took away her resistance. He laid claim to a part of her he'd never touched before.

He went after her heart.

It was so hard to know that there was only half of it left in there for him to claim.

And she curled around him, gasping, rising - as he plunged between her thighs - and made love to her in the silvery dark.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N:_

 _So, for those who know me. They know I'm a strong Jilleon shipper. And that I only see Jill and Chris in two very distinct ways: The best friends ever - who occasionally get it on. Or the greatest love story never told. We start to see the picture of that here. Best friends. A mess. A girl trying to find her heart in the thick of it._

 _And what happens when we try so hard to fight what we're feeling and make everyone around us happy. The question of course, is can you love someone just because you should?_ _…._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Nine: In Which We Find A Clever Rookie, A Girl Who Wants Her Cake And Her Cookie, and Friends in Low Places_**

There were plenty of good things about loving Chris Redfield.

One: The Sex. The Sex, being given it's own capitalization to denote the importance of it as a proper noun, was insane. The Sex happened when you were eating a taco in the kitchen and leafing through Game Informer. First he ate your taco, but you didn't care becuause then? He ate your "taco". So you forgave him.

The Sex was always unpredictable. It happened when you were doing dishes on the counter. It happened when you were watching reruns of E.R. and painting your toe nails. He didn't even care if you spilled the bottle all over him while he nailed you into the carpet. He just, bulldozed all over you with The Sex and left you brain dead.

The Sex was good.

Two: He was reliable as all hell. If he said he'd get something for you, he got it. If he promised to do something, he did it. If he told you he loved you, he meant it. You believed him because he wasn't the type to bother to lie either. All honesty, all the time. If you could deal with his laziness, his messiness, his lack of regard for personal space and privacy, he was your guy.

The honest could backfire, admittedly.

Jill came out of her room, late, for meeting the girls for drinks downtown. She was in a blue little tube dress with black boots that rode her legs to the knees. She caught him watching her eating a burger on the couch (why!? He knew she hated it.)

"Good?"

He shrugged a shoulder, considering her, "Kinda slutty. But maybe that's the point."

Redfield: all honesty, all the time.

The bad news about him? He hated going clubbing. He hated going bar hopping with her and her girls. He hated the dancing and the mouth breathing and the bullshit. So, he stayed in while she ran around town with her girlfriends and tore it up.

He was a t-shirt, jeans, and Playstation kinda guy. He stayed in, drank beer, and watched bad sitcoms. If he went out at all, he was down at J's Bar with the boys playing darts, hustling pool, and drinking Budweiser.

They didn't do "date night". They didn't do much of anything beyond the apartment together that wasn't exactly like they'd always been: two buds hanging out and laughing it up with friends.

Chris Redfield was your best friend. Chris Redfield was fucking AWFUL at romance.

He didn't even bother.

No flowers. No sweet words. He had plenty of those in the bedroom. He had the filthiest mouth you'd ever hear in bed. Utter turn on. But he was terrible outside of it in terms of lovey stuff.

Even the I love you was few and far between.

On the phone when you said goodbye? Nope.

Leaving for work? Nope.

See ya later? Nope.

As Jill was leaving to go hit the club, he speculated, "Do you even really love me?"

He paused with his burger at his mouth, "What now?"

"You never say it. Maybe twice in the last few months. You love me? I think you just wanted to win me."

He laughed. He rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a girl, Jill, seriously. We're good. I don't have to tag along or shout it from the rooftops to prove it. I love you. Have fun tonight. I'll fuck you bowlegged when you get home."

Ugh.

Loving Chris Redfield easy. Loving Chris Redfield was an ass pain and a lesson in patience.

It never mattered at work. You wouldn't even know they were together there. With Wesker constantly dropping reports on her desk with information regarding "fraternizing with subordinates" (his Mr. Mom version of warning her about her friendship with the rookie) and Forrest and Chris hazing Leon so bad it was nearly painful, most days at work she was struggling just to keep from killing someone.

Leon, true to form, took it all with aplomb. He hunted down his things when they were strung up around the station. (His underwear pegged to the corkboard in the break room with a post it stuck on them asking: Are these yours? Found in Chief Iron's office.") To the absolute shit duty stations he was assigned (he spent three days standing in waist high sewage during the reservoir rupture). To the inability of him to,ever, ever EVER be alone with Jill (no matter where they went or what they did - Chris had eyes on her everywhere. It was so annoying that after three months of it she was up to her eyebrows with him.)

Leon never backed off.

He was charming. He was friendly. He didn't touch her again in a way that was inappropriate or flirty. He was just her friend. And it was good. It was really good.

He was dating. She knew that. She'd seen him out on dates. Never the same girl twice. And there were no rumors flying around the station about him tapping asses and taking names. So he was just...dating.

She was fine with it.

Ok.

She wasn't. She hated it. But she'd made her choice.

Her choice was pissing her the hell off some days, but she'd made it.

Chris didn't touch her at work. Which was fine. He didn't touch her in public really. Which...was fine. Sorta fine. Mostly fine. But she was having a hard time figuring out why he didn't bother.

She felt more and more like he'd laid claim to her just so Leon couldn't have her.

It pissed her off.

She wasn't trying to get tongue fucked at the movies or anything but was it too much to ask for some hand holding when they were walking downtown after a baseball game?

Seriously.

She was being a bitch, mostly. She just...wanted a little freaking romance.

In her tube dress, in the loud flashing lights, the smoke, and the noise of Babylon - the club she was chilling at with her girls - Jill was sipping her Cosmopolitan and trying to decide how she wanted to play it out. Let it go? Get in his face? Usually, when she tried talking about personal shit, Chris threw her down and fucked her stupid and she forgot what they were fighting about.

She was starting to think he might be smarter than her.

Across from her Vicki from Vice was tapping her high heels on the end of her mile long legs. "Lord...what's the deal with you and that piece of ass over there anyway?"

Jill tossed her hair from her eyes and followed the gesture. Naturally.

Leon and his girl friday, his flavor of the moment. What was her name? Amber or something. From the Chief's office. All boobs and good humor.

They were dancing and laughing and drinking.

Meanwhile? She was over here pouting and drinking and being way too introspective for a chic in a club.

Over the music, Heather - Jill's roomate before she'd started living with Chris - mused beneath her bushy red hair- "You were sleeping with him before Redfield right?"

Jill shook her head, sighing, "Nope. Just friends."

Vicki gave her a narrow look. Jill held it. Heather gave her a long suffering brow lift. Jill returned it boredly.

They all laughed.

And Jill added, "I started hitting it. I freaked when his ex-showed up. It was a mess. But Chris was awesome. He was there for me. I'd been dancing around it for awhile. So, I took the rookie off the table a-"

"And had Redfield on it?" Heather giggled.

They all laughed again, like girls objectifying men on a Tuesday night.

Vicki mused, thoughtfully, "Redfield looks like a lazy lay."

Jill choked on her drink. She coughed and laughed, "...he does. He so does. He isn't. Nope. He's throw down, go down, get you off - and fuck you until you fall off the bed. It's insane."

Heather sighed, loudly, "How far you'd get with the walking wet dream over there?"

Jill studied him as he spun Amber in his arms and dipped her effortlessly. And she sighed too, "Not far enough."

Vicki smirked, "Regrets?"

"About Chris? No. About Leon?" She sipped her drink, watching him, "Some. But I'm happy with Chris."

Heather and Vicki studied her. She studied Leon as he danced. Heather glanced at Vicki and bobbled her brows and Vicki said, "Are you? Or are you just...in it for the friendship and the fucking?"

Heather nodded, her round face glowing, "There's a difference between fuck buddies and lovers, Jill."

Jill considered the question of it. And finally, she said, "He said I love you. He said I was his. It's not just...casual or anything. It's a relationship right? We're all in."

Vicki mused, still watching her face, "You in love with him?"

Why did everyone keep asking her that?

"I love him."

Heather shook her head, "No. Are you IN love with him, Jill? Like...hearts and flowers and forever in the dark where you can't stop craving him?"

Laughing lightly, Jill shook her head, "What is that? That's stupid. And it's not even real. It's a relationship. We laugh. We fuck. We eat pizza. We sleep together. It's fine."

Vicki and Heather were shaking their heads. Jill waited, but neither said anything, "Damnit. What?"

Heather said, "Jill...that's fuck buddies. He's the luckiest guy alive. You don't make him earn you at all. You just...let him set the pace and run the world and fuck you."

Jill snorted, "No. You guys think love is all about passion and romance and girly shit. It's not. It's about stability. And devotion. And respect."

Heather looked sick, "...when you're eighty five."

Vicki shook her head, sadly, "Girl. GIRL. I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna show you what I mean. Wait here."

She leaped off her stool, she grabbed her drink and moved. Jill watched her approach Leon and Amber. She stepped right between them, brushed the little big boobed blonde away like an annoying fly, gestured to their table and laughed. He...did that thing where he watched Vicki's face raptly while she talked. He listened. He nodded.

He turned his head to the table.

Heather whispered, "Jill?"

"Hmm?"

"Go dance with the rookie."

Jill sighed and leaped off her stool. She carried her drink and Leon separated from Vicki to move toward her. He was in...some button down black shirt with a dragon embroidered in red over the chest and collar. The flickering lights made his hair look really red and really perfect.

Above the din, he shouted, "Hey! You should have told me you were coming here tonight, I'd have met up with you!"

Jill laughed and rolled her eyes, "We'd have ended up with a fucking babysitter following us as always."

"Fuck 'em." He laughed and guided her to the floor to dance. She looped her free arm around his neck and his slid around her waist. "Let 'em throw everything he's got at me, Jill. I'm not going anywhere."

She offered him the Cosmo and angled it to his mouth so he could sip it.

Jill shouted, "Your date is cute!"

And Leon laughed, lightly, "Thanks. She's nice. She's not wearing a torture device of spandex and sin with knee high boots, but she's nice!"

Jill laughed and aligned their cheeks as they danced.

Into her ear, he mused softly, "What is this you're not really wearing?"

"It's a dress!" She laughed, letting him swing her in a circle, "A tube dress."

"A tube dress? It looks like a boob dress."

Oh lord.

The little locket she wore was nestled, in fact, right in those fantastic boobs. He went to put his face in her cleavage and motorboat.

Laughing lightly, he said, "I can't blame him for following you, Jill. He's afraid of me."

Curious, Jill met Leon's eyes, "Why?"

"Because he's not stupid."

Jill offered him the drink again. He waited. She put it to his mouth to sip. He could have held it himself. They both knew that.

Jill answered, softly, "Nothing to be afraid of. We're friends."

"Yep. Friends." His hands shifted and slid over the top of her butt. She let it happen. Her free hand fisted in his shirt to hold on while they danced. Although danced was...probably a wrong word. Danced implied moving around. They were just kinda...swaying?

Finally, he said, quietly with their noses touching, "I should get back to my date."

"Yeah?" Her fingers stroked his shirt where it held them. He tilted his head for another drink of her Cosmo.

His hands never ventured any further than the tippy top of her butt. Very friendly. Nothing untoward. Just dancing. Although dancing, again, wasn't entirely the right word. They were rubbing or something.

And Leon winked at her, "I should. Good to see you, Valentine. I like what you're not really wearing here. I'll probably rub one out later alone in my bathroom like a pervert thinking about it, but I like it."

Jill laughed. She leaned. He thought, well shit, and she pressed a kiss to his mouth.

Simple. Unobtrusive. Friendly. "Call me later?"

He figured somebody needed to let go here. So he let go. She was flush and pretty and watching him. He winked again and backed up in the crowd, "You bet, darlin. Enjoy your night."

Shit.

He went back to his date. She went back to her table.

She sat on her stool. Vicki smirked, swirling her drink, "Well?"

Jill watched her, eyes narrowed.

Heather mused, "Well?"

And Jill sighed, loudly, "Ok. I get what you're saying. I get it. But it doesn't change anything."

Vicki leaned over, chuckling, "You wet?"

Jill shifted on her stool, "Maybe. Ok? Maybe he does that to me. But it's just physical. It's just attraction. It doesn't last."

Heather studied her, quietly, "What does last, Jill? A guy who is your best friend, fucks you real good, and doesn't romance you? Is there something wrong with wanting the romance?"

She sighed. She went home.

Chris was sound asleep on the couch. Forrest had fallen asleep face down on the rug. Someone had drawn a penis on his face. Brad was snoring in her arm chair with his hand in a bucket of warm water.

Some half naked girl was asleep on the floor by the couch. Who's chic was it? Jill had no clue.

There was another one snoring in her bathtub.

That was thing about Chris. He didn't go out much. He just had all his friends over constantly to hang out in their place. So she always had half naked drunk girls in her apartment.

The living room was a mess. She spent a half an hour cleaning it and went to her bedroom.

Her little phone rang about an hour later when she was cuddled in her blankets watching the Smurfs. She picked it up and knew who'd be on the other side, "It's midnight, rookie."

"So they tell me. Just wanted to make sure you got home ok."

Jill sighed, "I'm fine. Date still going on?"

"Yep. She's powdering her nose or something in my bathroom." She heard him shift and kick his feet up, "Whatchu up to?"

"Watching the Smurfs."

He laughed, lightly, "Which one is it?"

"The one where the Smurfs winter food supply runs out."

"Oh, shit," He snorted and she heard him sit up, "And they solve the rat pack mystery and get all the food right?"

Shit. Jill rolled to her back, laughing, "And Gargamel gets hit in the nuts, although they call it the stomach, when he tries to steal their food from the castle."

Leon laughed and waited a long moment, "You alone?"

Curious, Jill answered, staring into the shadows, "Yeah. Chris had eight beers and crapped out on the couch."

"...romance by Redfield."

Laughing, Jill replied, "Why?"

"You should come over. I don't want to tempt you too much but I probably have all of the seasons of the Smurfs on DVD."

Jill listened to the snoring in her living room. Was she? Was she living with her best friend? She was. She was indeed. What had changed since they'd become lovers? Nothing.

Just The Sex. They were friends who fucked. Which, was a good relationship, for most people it would have been perfect. For her? Great.

Before.

Before what? Her mind was curious what had changed.

Chris was a great guy. He loved her. He was devoted to her. He took care of her. He was her best pal and her favorite guy on Earth.

What was missing there?

The rush was missing. It had settled into a meandering friendship punctuated with good sex. It was normal. Nothing wrong with it at all.

She was bored.

Aloud, she said it, "I'm bored."

And she was a BITCH.

She was. Because she wanted the passion. Wanted the chase. She wanted The Sex - oh lord - she wanted that. Redfield was...he was a fucking god in bed. But she wanted him to throw her down because he had to have her. And make her heart race with a look. And jump in a hot air balloon just to be near her.

Shit.

Chris was a rock. A slow roll. A guy who didn't bother to put out any more effort than absolutely necessary. He said, "I love you, Jill. You're mine now." And he figured, that was done.

On the other end of the phone, Leon mused, "I know you're bored. So come over. You want me to get rid of the date and come pick you up?"

Jill did. She really did. She opened her mouth to say yes.

And she whispered, "I can't tonight. But what about dinner tomorrow? Maybe a movie?"

"Sure. There's a revival of Mothra playing downtown."

"You kidding?"

"Nope."

"Dude. DUDE. In. All in. Enjoy your date, buddy. See you tomorrow." She clicked off. She sighed.

She hated his date.

Amber came out of the bathroom. She was stark naked. "I think I lost my clothes."

Amused, Leon tapped his foot on the table. She was all tits and ass, this girl. He rolled his tongue around his teeth, "Looks that way. You cold?"

"Nope. You horny?"

She was, hands down, the dumbest thing in the RPD. But she was also, they said, a legend in the sack. He pictured Jill taking it hard and fast from Redfield.

Amber had the type of body that was curvy now and would be gone to fat in a few years after she squeezed out a couple kids. But now? She was hourglass. She was blonde. She was Marilyn Monroe pretty.

And him? He was nuts for Jill. Nuts for her.

He pictured Redfield drilling her into the counter and hated them both.

And he was still a dude.

Amber reached for his pants. He tossed the remote on the couch beside him. And he figured there was no harm in trying out a legend.

* * *

Jill rolled over about four am to find Chris snoring behind her with his arm thrown over her waist. She sighed again. Of course he hadn't woke her to make love to her. Nope.

He was too drunk to bother.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

She kept repeating it.

She rolled out of bed. She dressed in the dark. She grabbed her keys and snuck out the door.

She loved him, she loved him, she loved him.

Her bike kicked up dust and settled as she parked. She hurried up the stairs in her sleeping shorts and her huge shirt. She knocked, she waited.

The door opened.

She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. She was a good girl. She was.

Curious, Leon tilted his head, "Change your mind?"

"...looks that way. You alone?"  
"Yup." He opened the door to let her in.

She passed under his arm into his apartment.

Clean.

The damn thing was spotless.

She wasn't tripping on beer bottles and old take out chinese. She wasn't ass deep in dirty laundry.

She loved Chris. She did.

Why was she here?

And she said, "Turn on the Smurfs. You're about to get schooled."

Amused, Leon flopped onto his couch in a pair of gray sweats with an RPD sweater. He grabbed the remote and hit play. He'd already been watching, it seemed, when she'd rolled up. "You're gonna lose, darlin, fair warning. I'm the Smurf master."

"The master of small blue midgets?"

"Like a mofo." He patted the couch. She flopped down and pulled her knees up, looping her arms around them. His arm was stretched over the back of the couch. If she shifted, she'd settle against him.

She shifted.

And her head laid on his shoulder.

His arm curled around hers and rubbed, gently.

Friendly.

Easy going.

It was good he was back in her life.

She loved Chris. She loved him.

And it didn't change a damn thing about how she felt about the guy on the couch beside her.

It just meant they got to spend their time repairing their friendship instead of laying in the sun stroking each other. It was good. It was all good.

They fell asleep on the couch watching The Smurfs.

She kept waiting for the guilt to strike. But there was none. She wasn't doing anything wrong, technically. Just hanging with her friend.

Just hanging around with a little bit of regret.

And wondering if she'd somehow ended up in a relationship where she'd let herself become invisible. Had she just...given Chris everything he wanted?

Was it like Heather and Vicki had said? Was she his fuck puppet? His dude with tits friend?

Why was that not ok? It was a good relationship. They got along great. They fucked a lot. They had separate lives outside each other. Most girls would be happy with that.

Why wasn't she?

The hand on her arm rubbed gently, petting. He set his cheek on her hair and she relaxed, settling against him.

Yeah.

That was why.

She loved Chris Redfield. It was steady. It was strong. It was good and true and easy. It was a port in the storm and a lighthouse in the dark and a hand helping instead of pulling her up. He was good to her, good for her, good with her. It was calm. It was smooth. It was sexy when he, so rarely, showed her anything REAL with his emotions. It was a constant fight to feel anything from him but placid contentment and lazy good humor.

Testing herself, she lifted the sweater on Leon and slid her hand under. She stroked his belly, feeling the shift and bunch of muscle. Her hand tingled. His skin? Goosebumps.

Yeah. That was part of it.

That. This. Friends. Right. RIGHT.

Chris in the dark, threatening. All in, Jill, I mean it. She was all in. She was. She wanted Chris. She wanted Chris - in bed. Shit. All the time. ALL THE TIME. The Sex...it was...it was something. She liked Chris - her pal. She liked Chris as a person. She liked Chris at work. She liked Chris alot.

Was she in love with him?

They were good friends. They were best pals.

They had nothing at all in common.

Not what they liked. Not what they enjoyed doing in their free time. From movies to games to anything.

Dating? They didn't date. They fucked. They ate pizza. They watched television and spent their nights with different friends.

Was she in love with Chris Redfield?

Jill asked, softly, "Any luck on locating Alyssa?"

Leon shook his head, his hand was stroking her back now under her shirt. "No sign at all. No sign of a struggle. No sign of anything. They said that castle has been abandoned for years. No sign of anything when they searched it."

"...fucking weird as hell."

"I know." Her nails shifted and slid over his chest. On the television, Gargamel was using Azrael to torture Smurfette. The only girl. The girl...stuck between too many boys. Jill thought, I hear your pain sister. Maybe the cat would eat her and put her out of her misery.

He shifted his back and her arm slid around him, the other anchoring at his chest to stroke. There was ALOT of friendly petting happening on this couch.

What if Chris was at home friendly petting with those skanks passed out in her living room?

Her brain fucking hated that too.

Lord.

She was so fucked there were no words.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N:_

 _This story is so fluffy. I want to see Jill dating. I want to see her wooed._

 _Let them chase her and try to win her. Lord knows I can't think of anything more awkward than Redfield trying to charm her. HA. OY._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Ten: In Which We Find A Lot of Humping, A Little Dumping, and A Battle for a Beautiful Girl_**

They snoozed a little. They held on and petted. She knew he was sleeping. His breathing was deep and slow. Jill played at his nipples, in a completely not friendly manner, because he wasn't aware. Because...it wasn't cheating. It was just...friendly touching.

Why was WESKER'S face giving her the stink eye in her head right now!?

It was the memo on her desk that morning:

 ** _From the Desk of Albert Wesker:_**

 ** _Jill -_**

 _Various sources have confirmed your continued friendship with the rookie Leon S. Kennedy. This is detrimental to your continued reputation here within the department. You will be, unceremoniously, made into a laughingstock. You will be ridiculed and labeled a Jezebel. You will be discounted as unprofessional among your peers. Please refrain from continued association with subordinates. It is not, strictly, forbidden but the practice of inter-unit fraternization is frowned upon._

 _In highest regard,_

 _Cpt. Albert Wesker_

Jill had drafted a short response and knocked on his office door. She sat it down on his desk, wordlessly, and left the office.

 ** _Captain-_**

 _Please see the below mentioned diagram regarding your concerns on my personal affairs. Thank you for your consideration regarding my reputation at this time. But I regret to inform you that I will be continuing in my private life as I see fit._

 _The following diagram is a drawing pertaining to who's business it is to involve themselves in my personal matters._

It was a crudely drawn stick man circling his hand in front of him. Above the head? A bubble with one word: Nunya.

 _Please instruct your various sources (Redfield and Speyer) to mind their own damn business in the future as well sir and to kindly not involve my superiors in their juvenile complaints._

 _-Jill Valentine_

And now here she was, while Chris was sleeping off his fun night without her, playing tweak the tit with the hottest rookie in seven fucking states. What was she doing here? Was it simply a matter of Vicki and Heather being right? Was she hot for it with Leon because Chris was just too much a pal to make her his and blow her mind?

Were they pushing a relationship when they should be pushing a friendship?

Maybe she was confusing this with a friendship too. Her nose slipped against his neck. His shaggy hair touched her forehead as he murmured in his sleep and snuggled her closer. The hand curled around her arm shifted and barely, barely, barely grazed the side of her breast.

Her whole groin tightened like he'd fucked her stupid and left her sopping wet.

Nope.

Not the same.

The Sex with Redfield? Great. The rest of it? Fine. It was good. It was no fucking different than it had ever been. And it should've been different. It should've been hot or fireworks or want. It was friends who fucked.

And it wasn't enough. He was just too damn lazy to do anything but roll along contentedly while she drifted around in her own world. They came together. They got it on. They went to work. They were still buddies. Baseball and bars and pool. And never any damn romance.

Nothing.

Did she think she'd find that here?

Yes. In a Jeep in the park. On a blanket by a brook. In a balloon. Never the same thing twice. She was a bitch. She was. She wanted the fireworks of it. And she couldn't just sit there like a lump waiting for Chris to figure that out.

Her stroking hand twisted a little in the baby fine hair above his nipples. She knew it woke him. She felt him shift in her arms. She wanted to slide one hand down and just...fist him.

Her hand skimmed along his thigh over his sweatpants. She felt him tighten. His breath caught.

Yeah. Friends, her ass.

As if he'd read her mind, Leon grunted and nuzzled her face up.

Bad. Good. Bad bad bad. Why she was so bad when she was with him?

Jill whispered, faces brushing, "...holy shit this is dangerous." Her hand was, maybe, a quarter inch from sliding north to find out if he was hard sitting there beside her. She was betting yes. Yes yes yes.

But that? THAT would be cheating right?

Sure? Yes? No? Was it? Her brain felt like fog and horny need.

He stopped. He breathed. She held so still. He was frozen there against her, gathering himself. He was being a good boy here.

Her?

Bad.

She rubbed their noses.

And he said, "That's not helping."

Jill laughed, hoarsely, and tugged away to settle her head back on his shoulder again. "Sorry. Friends, remember?"

"Hmm. Redfield know you're here?"

Jill said nothing.

Leon sighed, dramatically, "I don't like him, Jill. He's stupid and rude and arrogant. But I don't cuckhold a guy either. I want to be your friend. I won't be your stunt dick behind his back."

Jesus.

Jill clutched him like a doll, breathing, "He knows we're friends. He's not my fucking mother. I don't need his permission to be here."

Dully, Leon queried, "Don't you?"

Jill leaned back now, eyes flashing, "No. I don't. I don't need your judgment about it either. He's my boyfriend, not my keeper."

Leon nodded, face calm, eyes? SPARKING. "And what am I?"

Jill studied him, her eyes caught sight of his bedroom door. Ajar. She was PRETTY SURE there was movement in there.

She let go of him. She rose. "Tell me she's not here."

He eyed her, easily, "She's not here."

"So who's in your bedroom?"

Leon lifted a brow, he looked so fucking amused, "No one."

"Oh, yeah?"

Jill marched over and opened the door. Empty. Save for the smoke gray cat sleeping on his bed.

Leon shrugged, "Busted. That's Diesel. He needed a home at the pound yesterday where your boyfriend had me working. I needed a room mate. Win/win."

Jill stared at the cat. She blinked. She felt the first shiver of something in her chest.

And she put her face in her hands.

She heard him shift toward her.

And she murmured, "I'm losing my mind. I'm losing my mind. I was sure she was in there waiting for you to come back and fuck her again."

Leon was close, close enough she felt him tug her hands and turn her face up to him. "For the record - I don't bother to lie. She was here. Now she's not."

Jill noticed what he DIDN'T say. She whispered, "You fuck her?"

Tricky ground, he thought, but went with truth. "Nope. But I let her slob on my knob for a half an hour before she went home."

SHIT.

Jill jerked her hands away from him. She moved toward the door. "Gross. I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. What am I doing here? I'm losing my fucking mind."

She grabbed the door. He grabbed her arm. And he turned her against it to hold her there.

She said, quietly and with feeling, "Let me go. It's in your best interest to let me go, right now."

"I don't lie, Jill. Not to you. Not now, not ever. You said friends. You said move on. You said don't wait. You saying something different now?"

She stared at point two inches to the left of his face. "Let go of me, Leon."

"Nope. Answer me."

"We're friends. FRIENDS. But I don't need to hear about your women ok? I don't need to hear it. I don't want to. It's cruel. It's..." She paused, and shifted her eyes to his face, "It's me telling you that Chris likes to fuck me dog style over the back of the couch and pull my hair."

Oh, oh, his face. He was mad now.

GOOD. She was mad. Why? She was just pissed.

"Yeah. Sucks huh? This is hard. For me. For you. For both of us. I know that. I know it. But don't rub it in. Don't do that. I'm not trying to hurt you." She shook her head, "Why are you trying to hurt me?"

Shit.

SHIT. It was a good question. He HATED that it was a good question.

He finally replied, "Because I want you. And you don't want me back."

There it was. Honesty. Oy. It was rough. It was them all over. Rough. They'd been good once. He wanted that back. He wanted it back. He wanted her on her back around him.

Fudge.

Jill hissed, angry and hot, "I want you, you idiot. I want you back. I don't cheat! I don't lie! You lied to me! You broke my fucking heart! I let you go. I did that. Your wife shows up, leggy and fabulous, she makes a fool of me. We lose her in the goddamn forest in a twist of karma that NO ONE can miss. I pick the guy who's good to me, good for me, who treats me right and supports me...and basically ignores me most days. My boss keeps pointing out that it's bad for my rep to be your friend. My friends keep pushing me at you because they know I'm so into you it hurts. I love Chris. I LOVE him. But he and I just keep brushing wrong and all over the place. And still? STILL? I can't get you outta my head."

She kept her hands on the door because she wanted to put them on him. "I love him. He's my best friend. There's something eighty percent right about being with him."

Leon kept volleying his eyes over her face. He held her arm. He held her gaze. "What's missing?"

"You are. You. You know that. The girl and the boy in the tree house. The girl and the boy in the tree. I can't go all in with him. Like he wants. Like he deserves. I can't. Because you're in the way. I let you in the way. And your wife jumped in a balloon to fight for you."

His hands shifted. He grabbed her face to hold her. She shook her head, looking panicked. But he whispered, "Let me fight him for you. Let me fight for you. However you want this to go down. Tell me, and let me try. I will take every fucking torture he can toss at me. I'll deal with the gossip and the giggles and the rest of it. I'm sorry about Alyssa. It's done. I can't take it back. Let me fight for you. He doesn't deserve you, Jill. He doesn't get to win you just by being a decent dude. He's not right for you. Forget him. And let me love you."

A good speech.

She tugged his hands away. She trembled. She opened the door, sorta desperately. "It doesn't work that way. You're still married. Your wife is missing. But you're still married. And I'm his now. I'm his. So, I need to figure out what that means. I can't do that with you so close to me."

He shook his head. He punched the wall beside her. "Jill...you can't love him because he's safe. That's stupid. He loves you. He fucks you like a champ. He's so boring it's killing you. He's not for you. Dump him. Forget him. Come back in here and let me show you the difference."

"Gonna fuck him out of me?" She almost laughed, and then she trembled, kinda yearning for it.

"No. I'll _love_ him out of you. I'm in love with you, Jill. Not friends. Not buddies. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since that first day you punched that kid for me. Tell me you don't feel the same."

 _Are you in love with Redfield?_

She shivered. She shook her head. "He's good to me. I need to see it through."

"Jill..." Leon's face was a warning, "He deserves better than that. So do you. So do I. Go home, break his heart, he'll survive it. And come back here. Are you in love with me?"

She backed up into the hallway. "I have to go. I can't breathe."

"Are you in love with me, Jill? It's not a hard question."

She backed down the hallway, watching him in the doorway. "I've been in love with you all my life, I think. But it doesn't change anything. I need to breathe. I'm sorry. I'm losing my freaking mind here."

She turned. She ran.  
Karma got her again. She tripped and fell and rolled into the wall at the bend in the hallway. A wreath on the neighbor's door shook loose and conked her on the head. She felt the implication of it in her bones.

She went home. She got into her bed.

Chris rolled over to snuggle her. She felt him shift. She felt his hands move. He took her shorts. She spread her legs.

And then?

She grabbed his face and jerked it up to look at him. She snapped her legs closed and whispered, "Do you love me, Chris? Do you?"

His hand latched onto her throat and squeezed, "...you're mine, Jill. Mine. Open your fucking legs."

Jesus. His dirty mouth in bed. She breathed, "Why should I?"

Drunk? His dirty mouth was so much worse. He laughed and palmed her breast in his other hand, "So, I can come in you. So, I can make you scream. So, I can fuck you so hard you cry afterward."

Holy god.

The Sex. It was GOOD. Jill whispered, "Why don't you fuck me like you love me?"

But he was too drunk. He just was. He answered, slurring a little, "Why don't I fuck you like I own you?"

He rolled her over and threw her to the top of the mattress. She grabbed the headboard and braced, she caught her face in the mirror, stricken. Angry? Why? Why was she angry?

She gasped as she crudely readied her for him, shoving his fingers into her body. She gave up on the soft. He just wasn't that type of man. He just wasn't.

 _Forget him, Jill, and let me show you the difference._

They were so different.

And she loved them both.

It was just that complicated.

She gasped, bucking on his hand as he curled her butt against his groin, "Easy. Easy! I'm not ready."

He was still drunk enough it didn't matter. He rolled on her and she cried out quietly against him, shaking as he plunged into her body. She let him do it. She could have stopped him. He was so willing to please her. He'd never do it if he knew it hurt her.

But she felt like she deserved the hurt of it.

There was no lovemaking now, she thought, just guilt. Ugly guilt and hurt. Ugly guilt and pain. Because she loved him.

And she wasn't happy with him.

He was her friend who fucked her. And she wanted more than that.

He shifted, drilling her harder into the mattress, her mind scattered. Her body said: Take it, bitch. And she did. And she liked it. She gasped, bowing, and let The Sex take away the emptiness of them.

And she wished she was as drunk as the man on top of her.

So she wouldn't have to feel the pain of knowing she might have made the wrong choice.

* * *

Work was good. Brad kept trying to give her shit for being friends with a rookie until Chris finally kicked his chair out from under him and sent him to his back. He mused as Brad cursed loudly, "Keep it up Vickers, and I'm gonna rip ass in your mouth while you're sleeping next time."

Scary.

Joseph mused, "Pretty sure Brad eats ass all the time, man. Not sure it would matter."

Jill was so quiet.

Chris kept watching her as she worked.

He'd woken up in her room alone that morning.

She was gone before he'd ever gotten out of bed. Her running stuff was missing. There were skanks in his bathroom and his living room.

He thought maybe she was mad thinking he was touching one of them. He nudged her with his boot and drew her eyes up. And he gestured with his head to the bathroom.

She lifted a brow.

He gestured again.

And Jill remarked, "I don't think you need my help in the shitter, Redfield."

Joseph mused, "Bran muffin, dog. That's how you help that."

Barry was munching dates. He said, "Prunes too, Red. And coffee."

Chris rolled his eyes. He got up and went into the bathroom. Jill followed him in, tentatively.

Closing the door, she said, "You so much as fart in my general direction, Redfield, and I'm going to find out which of us is tougher."

Chris laughed lightly and pressed her back to the door. She blinked and lifted her hands to fist his vest, watching his eyes. "You mad at me, Jill?"

A good question. She could see his concern. She'd been distant. She knew that.

She was thinking about drunken fucking and being in love with two different men.

Her mind said: Yeah? Who? You're only in love with Kennedy.

Shit.

Chris was her best friends here, and she wanted to be straight with him. So, Jill said, "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Skanks. Bathroom. Living room. Not mine, FYI."

Ah.

Jill shook her head, smiling lightly. "Redfield, you're so loyal. If there were an RPD station full of naked skanks, I would still trust you."

Damn.

It echoed. His face? Softened. THERE - Jill thought - there was the real him. The feeling. It was in there. It was hidden beneath good humor and utter fucking laziness. But it was there. Why did he hide it?

"Ditto, kiddo. But why be mad at me then? I can tell you are."

Jill shifted, sighing a little, "Not mad, exactly. Not exactly. What are we doing here, Redfield? I mean, seriously, are we dating? Are we together? Are we fuck buddies? I can't figure it out."

Curious.

Surprised by it, he answered, "You're my girl, Jill. My only girl. I love you. Where's this coming from?"

And there was that, Jill mused, he just laid it out there. He meant it. He never said a word he didn't mean.

She whispered, "I don't feel like your girl, Chris. I feel like your buddy that you fuck. I feel like your friend with benefits. I feel like maybe we're trying to be in something we aren't here."

Ah.

SHIT. He leaned back, watching her face, "You flaking out on me?"

She shook her head, sighing a little, "You never say it. You never show it. You just...fuck me and get drunk and pass out and eat nachos...which..."

She let go of him and swung under his arm to pace. "...which is fine. It's who you are. I know that. But it works for a best friend, Chris. It doesn't work for a boyfriend."

Oh.

Hell.

She was saying he was a shitty boyfriend.

It hadn't once crossed his mind. Honestly. Objectively, he could see her argument there. He'd never really bothered to earn her. He just...kinda stole her from Kennedy and fucked her alot. But he'd thought she was good with that. He didn't think there was a reason to...push...harder.

SHIT. Even as the thought finished he was kinda ashamed of himself. Lazy fucking asshole, the Chris Redfield special.

He leaned on the wall, boot perched, arms crossed, "Ok. I agree, to a point. So what? You want to cut me loose?"

Jill sighed again, she shifted, "I like you. I love you. I just...I don't think you want to be my boyfriend. I think you want to fuck me sometimes so no one else can."

Yep. He was an asshole. He felt like one. He answered, "No. I love you. In love, Jill. In love. I want to be your guy, here. Not lose you because I'm stupid. What do you need? What?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. You're so lazy. It works for you, again. I don't want to change you. I don't. But I don't know how to keep being us and be together too. We're good friends. I'm not happy as your girlfriend. We don't do anything different than when we were friends. Save for fuck like bunnies. I kinda think I should get my own place and go from there."

"...you wanna break up?" SHIT. Lazy and stupid had gotten him dumped. The bad news? He wasn't AWARE he'd been lazy and stupid.

"I wanna take a break," She meant that. She realized she meant it, "Just...date? I want you to try to date me. I want to see if we're wasting our time here or just making fucking the next stage of our friendship. In love? I don't feel that from you, Chris. You don't even hold my hand when we go out."

He blinked. He thought about it.

He realized she was right.

She was RIGHT.

No flowers. No hand holding. He didn't open her door or charm her. He didn't kiss her sweetly and pay for dinner. He didn't do any of the shit guys did to win a girl's affection.

Why?

Because she'd been his friend first.

And he just added the humping and thought they were good.

That was so lowering it was almost pathetic.

Jill shifted, "So, that's where we are. A break. I'll move out and you...decide what you wanna do about it. I'm sorry. I love you, I do. I'm just...tired of being invisible until you want a place to poke your dick. Show me I'm wrong. Or bow out and let me go. Your choice."

She ducked under his arm and left the bathroom.

He stood there, frozen, and felt like the world's biggest asshole.

Great. Stolen from Kennedy to lose her because he was so complacent he just stopped paying attention.

Great.

Apparently, there were no longer any rookies or any STARS in Jill's basket.

And he was going to have to find some charm to win her back.

The bad news? He wasn't sure he had a single speck of any of it.

Jill eased out of the office. The tension was so thick everyone felt it. Joseph asked, just as she was leaving, "You ok, hon?"

And Jill laughed, lightly, "I am. I really am. Tell old dead eye in the bathroom there he knows where to find me when he's ready. I just...I need to go do something real quick."

She eased through the busy lobby. She stopped to watch Pete the Rookie do a handstand and get kicked in the ass.

Amber, the knob slobbering skank from the Chief's office was perched on Leon's desk. She was leaning her enormous breasts over to giggle and coo at him.

Jill licked her teeth. She caught his eye as he looked up.

Amber grinned at her as she wandered over. "Hey, Jill! What's up girl?"

Amber. You couldn't hate her. Why? She was just that nice. Jill smiled back, "I'm great. Can I steal this guy for a minute?"

"Of course!" Amber leaped off the desk in a skirt that barely covered her ass, "I'll see you later, Officer."

She giggled and waggled her acrylic nails as she hurried away. She stopped five times to giggle at other officers.

Jill mused, quietly, "You aware she's slobbering on their knobs too?"

Leon shifted in his chair, watching Jill. "Yup. I said I didn't fuck her. That's why."

Jill nodded sagely. She picked up his badge from the desk and rolled it in her palm. "Let's take a walk."

Curious, he studied her. "With all the spies watching us?"

She shrugged a shoulder, "Fuck the spies. That's done."

Shit.

SHIT.

He leaned back in his chair now, really paying attention. "Is it?"

"Turns out, I'm not the boyfriend type." She studied Amber again, "I'm not the bicycle type either, FYI. But I am the type to stop playing games here. I told him the same thing. I wanna take you to dinner tonight. A real dinner. A real date. And you show me the difference."

He laughed, lightly, "Just like that?"

"Yep." She was aware everyone around them was listening. Fuck it, she went with her gut anyway, "Ask me out, Leon Kennedy."

He rose. She waited, perched on his desk. And he said, quietly, "Here?"

"Here. Now. Unless you're worried about my reputation?"

Heart pounding, he couldn't stop the laugh again. "Fair enough. Dinner. Eight thirty? Wear something fancy."

Oh. She grinned. "I'd love to. One condition."

He tilted his head. She tilted hers. "Nobody sleeps around. Not me. Not you. During the dating? We do just that. We date. Nobody slobs on any knobs. Or rides any bicycles."

Leon put his hands in his pockets and rocked in his boots. "Deal. Kissing?"

"Kissing is ok between friends. But not with bicycles." Jill watched his face, waiting for something there. He just kept smiling at her. And she added, "Your fucking teeth are perfect, by the way."

He laughed. He leaned.

Forrest shouted, "Quit that leaning rookie! I swear to GOD!"

Jill, without missing a beat, called back, "Shut up, Speyer, before I stick my foot up your ass."

Somebody whistled. Ryman, probably, and called, "Rookie, pull your balls outta your back pocket and kiss her!"

Jill laughed, softly, "Could go bad for you to kiss me. I just dumped Redfield upstairs. He's gonna make your life miserable for it."

Leon considered it. He laughed, lightly too. "Screw it. I've been dealing with bullies my whole life. I can handle Chris Redfield."

He leaned, she caught his vest, and he kissed her.

The bullpen was a series of catcalls and stomping feet. Even Amber was laughing. Yep, she was just that kinda girl.

A press of lips. Simple. Nothing dirty.

Jill mused, quietly, "Hmm. Pretty weak. But we'll work on it."

He grinned. She slid away. And he returned, "I'll pick you up at eight thirty."

"See you then, Officer Kennedy. Don't be late. I'm tired of waiting."

She hurried back up the stairs. Chris was leaning by the STARS office, shaking his head, "I handle losing badly, Valentine. Just sayin."

She studied him, curious. "So don't lose. Win."

He smirked, shaking his head, "Romance huh?"

"Romance, Redfield. It's not rocket science. But it's not nachos either." She leaned a little closer to him, "You gotta work for it. Let's see how good you really are. Otherwise? You stay my best friend and the rookie gets the girl. Your choice."

She poked into the office.

Forrest sighed beside him and said, "You can NOT let the rookie get the girl man."

"Dude, you kidding? This kid is dead where he stands. Romance. I'm the mother fucking master of lady-wooing. I just never bothered before. Fucking rookie. He's done for."

"Yep. Stage two of hazing?"

"Yep. Implemented."

Chris signaled Kennedy on the lower deck and pantomimed lynching him.

Kennedy shrugged. He grinned. And he mouthed, soundlessly, "Bring it on...sir."

It was, it seemed, the beginning of the battle for Jill Valentine.


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N:_** _So here we go again. This story is easy to write since it's really just romance and fluff. Lord it's nice to break my brain from the drama and the dark of this fandom on it though. Seriously. Thank you for reading it as always._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Eleven: In Which We Find A Little Romance, A Second Chance, and A Couple Kisses in the Dark_**

Her best pair of heels were broken.

Concerned, Jill stared at them in her locker. Broken.

BROKEN.

Over her shoulder, Redfield mused, "Sucks. Maybe you can do barefoot in the park instead."

Jill pursed her lips and turned to glare at him, "Is there a point here?"

He shrugged and flopped down on the bench on his back to stretch. She was in the locker room trying to get ready for her date. She was considering super glue to fix the heels.

Sweaty, Chris huffed out a breath at her, "What's a date with a rookie entail anyway? Cheap street side tacos from a cart and groping in an alley where some homeless dude is taking a piss?"

Jill, without missing a beat, answered, "Nope. That's the Redfield special. Minus the groping. Redfield? He doesn't grope you when you're dating. Just when he's trying to keep rookies from dating you."

She slammed her locker. She walked passed him while he winced. And she smacked him, hard, on his sweaty belly.

Chris yelped, Jill muttered, "Asshat."

And he licked his teeth in anger as she went into the showers.

He hated her dating. Hated it.

He hated worse that she was dating because he was so damn stupid.

Shouting at her in the steamy shower, he mused, "Can I date too then?"

Washing her hair, Jill rolled her eyes, "Knock yourself out. Although I'm pretty sure you don't know what that word means. Amber in the Chief's Office is free tonight I hear."

UGH.

Annoyed, angry with himself because it was his own doing, Chris rolled to his feet. "Been there, done that."

Jill sighed, washing her feet. Had everyone? Amber Franks – RPD groupie.

She turned and shrieked, dropping the soap like a bad prison flick. Because he was in the shower with her.

Jill slapped her hands over her eyes. She staggered into the stall door. She grunted and cursed, slipped on the soap on the floor, and would have gone over if he hadn't grabbed her arms.

And she squeaked, "What are you doing!?"

"….showering. I wasn't aware it was a confusing concept. Water, soap, washing. Pretty simple, Valentine."

"NOT WITH ME!" She kept her eyes closed, charming him, and shoved at his chest, "Get outta here!"

"….Jill…I've seen you naked. Recently. A lot more naked than this. What gives?"

Jill grunted with the effort of shoving him. But he went and she slammed the stall door. Her eyes popped open. She pointed at his face above the door. "We are NOT doing THAT anymore, Redfield! No. No more to The Sex! You hear me? The Sex? It's done. This? This is a SEX free shower!"

Three stalls down someone shouted, "What the fuck!? I'm showering at home from now on! I only come here to get laid!"

There was laughter and someone answered, Ryman probably, "Vickers, you couldn't get laid in a shower if you were in OZ."

Everyone laughed.

Redfield leaned on the stall watching her as she rapidly covered her tits and her crotch with her hands. "Stop staring, Redfield! And beat it!"

Ok.

OK.

The wrong thing to say.

Clearly. So wrong.

He laughed. Someone else laughed. She glared.

And Chris responded, "I'm torn between offering to let you watch while I do that or breaking into a Michael Jackson song."

Again, someone shouted, "You can't sing Redfield! Go for flogging of the bishop!"

Chris snickered. Jill rolled her eyes and proclaimed, "Eyes off the goodies, Redfield. I mean it. You don't see these tits again until you earn it. Go oogle some other girl in the shower."

Ryman shouted, "Vickers is down here! He's as girly as they get!"

Brad shouted back, "I'm ALL MAN BABY!"

It was clearly Joseph who answered now, "Just Christ in a Purple Prom Dress Vickers, you even shout like a girl getting fingered."

Laughter.

Chris leaned on the door again, watching Jill. "You wanna get fingered and test the theory?"

His dirty mouth. She hated it. Jill glared again, "Get the hell outta here, Redfield. Before we find out if you do."

Oh. His face. All kinds of amused. "You wanna finger me, Valentine?"

She flipped up her middle one. "There ya go. Fingered. Fuck off."

Laughter. Chris, unflappable and charmed as always, winked at her and let go of her stall.

Jill muttered under her breath and finished showering. That was the last time she showered at work, she thought angrily, stupid man. Trying to fuck her before her date.

Stupid man.

She wrapped her towel around her and fled to the women's stall area to change.

She'd borrowed a "fancy" dress from Vicki. It was strapless and shimmery blue. It was floor length and had a slit up the thigh that was tasteful and sexy. Jill bound her breasts in the bustier that came with it and slipped on date panties in shimmery pink.

She slicked back her short hair and secured it in a tasteful updo with some pieces left loose to frame her face. Makeup went on to highlight her eyes and lips and cheekbones. And she sat down to fix the shoe.

Some superglue and a prayer later, she slipped on her heels and went to the mirror.

Rebecca Chambers was standing in the doorway staring.

Jill stopped, blinking. The little lab mouse kept standing there, frozen.

Concerned, Jill asked, "Bec? You ok?"

"I'm fine," Squeaked Chambers, "I'm fine. You? STUNNING."

Stunning was good. It was good.

Jill laughed, flushing a little, "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Oh yeah. Stunning."

Jill picked up her clutch purse, beaded black and silver, and followed Rebecca out of the locker room. She passed through the second floor walk up and turned heads. Each time one shifted, her heart pattered happily.

Rebecca was grinning, "If I put on a dress like that, I'd look like a ten year old girl playing dress up."

Jill hugged her, one armed, "Stop selling yourself short, Chambers. Men are stupid. They'll look at any pair of tits in a dress. Dress like you mean it, you'll turn heads too."

She hit the stairs and started down them, like Cinderella or something.

In the bullpen, the whistling started. Grinning, laughing at the generous catcalls and appreciation, Jill weaved between bodies.

Someone offered to hunt under her dress for her "glass slipper."

"Eat your heart out, Gussman."

Speyer nudged Chris with his elbow where they were standing near the Chief's Office. "Dude…you are NEVER living this down."

Chris turned. He stopped. He blinked and dropped his taco.

That's how bad this moment was. He dropped his damn taco.

And he'd never, in his life, seen anything more beautiful.

Jill was laughing with Vicki and Amber and Rebecca and Heather. She was the center of attention, clearly. She looked like a storybook princess or something.

And he was the greatest fool alive. Kennedy was her prince. And him? The fucking court jester in a stupid hat juggling balls of shit.

Because she'd been his once. And now he was the guy with the taco on the floor and the regret.

Forrest clapped his arm, with sympathy, "Sorry guy. You'll get her back."

Chris shook his head, angry. "Maybe she's right. Maybe I don't deserve her. Why didn't I fucking bother, dude? Why?"

"Habit?" Forrest considered her, "You guys were friends a long time. Habit makes us stupid."

"Yeah..habit makes us stupid."

"It ain't over, man. Just use that charm you keep shouting about. He takes her out like Cinderella…you take her out like Zorro."

Curious, Chris met his eyes. "Yeah," Forrest added, "He uses charm. You use suave. Take her line dancing or something. Or salsa dancing. Sweep her off her feet with the things she likes about you. That way? You win her fair and square."

Chris blinked. Forrest blinked.

And Chris remarked, "That's the wisest shit I ever heard come outta your mouth dude."

"I know. I'm thinking of doing a radio show. Chics for your Dicks by Forrest Speyer. What do you think?"

Now Chris laughed, slapping his back, "I'd listen, you idiot. I'd be the only one. But I'd listen."

Forrest chuckled and stopped. And sighed.

And sighed again, "…sorry dude."

"For what?"

That was what.

There was the stupid rookie coming down the stairs.

Rebecca breathed, "….oh. My. Oh my. Haha. Oh."

Vicki turned.

Heather turned.

Jill followed their line of sight.

And Jill whispered, "…oh…mine."

They all laughed.

Because it made sense. He was all fancy suit and tie. Blue and black and fantastic.

What was cuter, Rebecca mused, these two beautiful people that paused and both blushed when they saw each other. Kennedy with his pink cheeks, Jill with her dilated eyes and blooms of color on hers. She laughed, lightly, a little hoarsely, "Hi."

Leon rocked on his heels, "Hey. You look…"

"Yeah…you…too? You too?"

They both laughed.

She shifted. He shifted. And he said, "Right. Date. Just…here…"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little gold necklace. Jill blinked, watching him. He looked so nervous. She felt so nervous. It was kinda great.

But she said, "This was my mother's. It's all I had of her and the old man was insistent I never touch it. So…naturally I stole it."

Jill kept watching his face.

She was kinda rooted there.

He stepped behind her and clasped the delicate filigree to her neck. It settled prettily over her collarbone. A sweet little simple gold heart.

And he finished, "There. It looks good on you. I think…I guess she'd want someone to wear it right? Seems dumb to just let it rot."

Jill kept staring at his face. He studied the locket on her neck. "Looks good on you. Beautiful. Elegant. Like you."

Lord.

Somebody giggled.

She was PRETTY sure it wasn't her. Pretty sure.

Jill whispered, softly, "….thank you."

They stared at each other, raptly, and he whispered back, "…you're welcome. Ready?"

She was. She was so ready. She was BEYOND ready.

She tucked her hand in his arm. They crossed the big beautiful lobby of the station together. It was kinda perfect.

Forrest said, quietly, "Now with the hazing? I have eighteen things I can have that kid doing to ruin their date."

Chris watched them, quiet. He shook his head. And he turned back to the reports he was working on. "Nope. Let them go."

Surprised, Joseph glanced over, "Really?"

"Yeah. Really. Look at her. Jesus Christ. Look at her. Let her have the date. She looks like a princess…let her have a night she deserves."

Rebecca blinked, glancing at Vicki. Vicki looked at Heather. They all shook their heads.

Redfield loved her. It was all over him. He loved her enough to let her go like that. Because it would make her happy.

Turning her head to him, Vicki mused, "You're so fucking stupid. Why didn't you fight for her when you had her? Why wait until she's gone?"

Annoyed with him, Heather knocked his files off his desk. They tumbled to the floor in a flutter of paper.

Jesus, he thought, Jill's band wagon of warrior chics. Getting her back, clearly.

And Heather added, "Stupid boy penis. You had her. And you lost her. And you love her. All you had to do was show it. Stupid boy penis."

They walked off.

Forrest muttered, "Bitches of Eastwick, seriously."

Maybe they were, Chris thought angrily, but they were also right.

* * *

He turned the Jeep into the parking lot. The Millenium Hotel, Jill thought wildly, with the dance floor that was entirely glass. So, you literally danced above the city with the stars.

Romance.

That's what it was.

That's what this was.

Her heart pattered.

She whispered, softly, "Can you afford this?"

Leon laughed, breathily, "Does it matter? You said date, Jill. This is what dating looks like. It's throwing all your game at a girl to get her to see you're serious."

She rolled her head to look at him in the dark car. "Are you serious?"

He said nothing. He put his hand out to her. She slid hers into it and he brought it to his mouth to kiss it.

Under his breath, he whispered, "I could throw you down and fuck you doggy style too. I can do that, if it's what you want. But it didn't work for Redfield. And it's not how I operate. I like beautiful things, Jill. I like to share those things with the people who matter. Money? It comes, it goes, you can always make more of it. One night with you in that dress? Priceless. I wanna…"

He laughed and she could see his blushing cheeks in the soft street lamp. He stole her breath.

"…I wanna show you off, Jill! I wanna show the world you're with me. Maybe it's stupid or shallow or dumb…but I'd have died if you'd been my girl all those years ago. I kept thinking…maybe if I looked like Redfield back then or something…maybe you'd have always been my girl. Maybe I wouldn't be sitting here wishing you were."

He shifted again, laughing without humor, "Sorry. I sound stupid. I probably sound really stupid."

Jill shook her head. She opened her door and got out.

Leon lingered, cursing a little, "Stupid. Yeah. Really stupid."

He climbed out after her. He was already talking, "I'm sorry. Forget I said all that shit, huh? Let's make this a rookie mistake and you can let me channel my inner James Bond and try again."

She put her hand out.

He stopped talking.

They stared at each other in the spill of streetlights.

And she said, "Hold my hand, Leon. And take a walk with me."

He studied her face. Soft, he thought, she looked so soft. There was something on her face that moved him.

He took her hand. She blended their fingers. And she didn't lead him toward the hotel.

She led him to the street.

He queried, softly, "You don't want to go dancing?"

Jill laughed, eyes sparkling, "I do. But we don't need to go broke to do it."

The little band on the street corner were sitting on barrels. They were playing drums in their lap. One had a saxophone, one a guitar. The music was lovely. Occasionally people stopped to leave money in the open guitar case.

They stopped. Jill waited.

And he spun her out to bring her back.

Shit. Romance. It wasn't about how much money you spent. It was about the moment. Entirely about the moment.

This one?

All theirs.

The crowd gathered to watch it. The beautiful girl, the beautiful boy – the beautiful summer starlight and the breeze that drifted the music around them. The musicians happily began to play a slow song.

The sweet little girl in the floppy hat tapped her foot and started serenading them.

 _Don't know much about your life.  
Don't know much about your world, but  
Don't want to be alone tonight,  
On this planet they call earth._

 _You don't know about my past, and  
I don't have a future figured out.  
And maybe this is going too fast.  
And maybe it's not meant to last_

They settled into each other, smoothly, dancing as the fountain by the clock tower spilled pretty water, as the band played, as the world tilted.

It was, what it appeared to be, two young people on the verge of something beautiful.

 _But what do you say to taking chances,  
What do you say to jumping off the edge?  
Never knowing if there's solid ground below  
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,  
What do you say,  
What do you say?_

 _I just want to start again,  
And maybe you could show me how to try,  
And maybe you could take me in,  
Somewhere underneath your skin?_

 _What do you say to taking chances,  
What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

They drifted in together and clung, shaking.

The girl in the hat was grinning. The musicians were whispering. And the girl called, "You two? Best fucking thing I've seen all night. How about we step this up a bit?"

And that was romance too. It was knowing when to turn the page. It was turning the page to find the laughter in the swirling beginning.

Leon spoke with her softly. She nodded, she grinned, she called, "Girl! You let this one go, you send him my way ok?"

Jill laughed, watching him move back to her side. She lifted a brow, "Whatcha doin there, rookie?"

"Telling a story. Listen and learn, Valentine."

 _You can run and you can begin'  
In a place where you don't fit in  
Love will find a way ...yeah_

 _When you're down, you can start again  
Turn around anything you're in  
Love will find a place yeah_

 _If you got one heart you are followin'  
One dream keeps you wondering  
Love lights your way through the night  
One wish keeps you tryin'  
What's your silver lining  
Loves lights your way through the night_

Jill felt her heart stammer. She felt her eyes fill and shook her head, "….you big girl."

He laughed and spun her into his arms. They swayed and he said, quietly, "This is it, Jill, for me? This is what it feels like."

 _You can fall a thousand time  
You can feel like you've lost your mind  
Love will find a way oh yeah yeah  
In a minute it can change your life  
In a moment it can make you right  
Love will find a place yeah_

 _If you got one heart you are followin'  
One dream keeps you wondering  
Love lights your way through the night  
One wish keeps you tryin'  
What's your silver linin'  
Loves lights your way through the night_

They stopped dancing. The little upbeat love song swirled around them. And he said, "I'm not Redfield. I can't give you that. I can give you this."

He reached in his pocket and held out the little lighter. "So you can light your way through the night. It's not much, I guess. But a pretty girl once told me to stop being afraid of the dark. I'm learning. And I think maybe she needs it more than I do right now."

The damn lighter.

Jill laid her hand over it in his. "It's yours. I don't need it….because I have you."

They curled together, her feet dangled, and they kept holding on while that little love song spilled sweetly in the soft summer sky.

Romance, Jill thought, that's all it took sometimes.

He dropped her off at her door. Like a gentleman. He kissed her hand.

She laughed lightly and grabbed his vest. A romantic date, sure, you bet. With a lot of tongue kissing at the end of it.

A lot of gasping and somebody wheezed. She was pretty sure it was her pressing him into the Jeep to eat his face. Maybe.

He didn't even grope her.

Gasping, pulling back to look at him, she laughed softly, "Put your hands on my ass, rookie."

And he chuckled. He just chuckled. His hands slid down to cup her butt and tug her into him. She smeared her lipstick all over his mouth.

Somebody was humping. Again, she was mostly convinced it was her.

Laughing, letting go, Jill staggered a little as she stepped back.

He kept leaning on the Jeep like she'd kicked his ass instead of grabbed it.

Trying to be suave, Jill walked backward. "Right…so…goodnight."

"Definitely a good night. A good one. What's the rules about ASKING for the knob slobbering?"

Jill giggled a little and stole his heart. She said, "This is our first date, rookie. I think that's a negative on that."

"Yeah? We can fast forward. Come with me. We'll get some breakfast. That'll be two dates. I'll buy you a burrito at the gas station, three dates. What do ya say?"

"Charmer." She laughed, she kept walking backwards, "When do we do this again?"

"Tomorrow?"

She laughed again, face red, "Maybe. Leon?"

"Hmm." Still sagging on the Jeep like she'd kicked him from the ground. She kinda loved it.

"Thank you. I've really missed you."

He went to say something charming and she tripped. The rules said: Never look back. Apparently, walking backward was the same rule.

She went over. Her heels snapped its glued bottom. It zipped out like a rocket as her legs kicked out from beneath her. It flew like a dart and smacked into his Jeep.

Jill hit the ficus in the pot beside the stairs to her apartment. She scrambled. She went backward into it with a rustle and rip of cloth . Her legs went up over her head and the pot fell over, spilling her into the dirt behind it.

And there she was. Legs up in the air like a dying cockroach, having tried to kill her date with a rocket shoe, her perfect romantic evening soiled by the smell of compost and mulch.

The mulch had fallen into her cleavage, making her boobs look furry.

Leon leaned over her in the moonlight, eyes wide, mouth twitching. "…hey."

"…..hi." Her face was beet red, "…so…I meant to do that."

He put his hand down to her, laughing, "You always fall over when you see me. What's the meaning of that I wonder?"

Jill climbed up, light-headed with embarrassment, "You knock me off my feet, clearly."

Chuckling, he swept the dirt off her arms while she knocked off her dress. Later, he'd think he was either retarded or insane, because his brain kept on swiping. And there he was, swiping her cleavage with his hand to get the dirt off.

She was staring at him, owl eyed.

After fifteen seconds of this, he finally stopped. She froze.

He blinked.

She coughed.

His voice cracked, thrilling her, and he whispered, "….right. All better?"

She turned. He dropped the shoe. It clattered on the ground. There was the groping in the alley, Jill thought desperately as he shoved her against the wall. That was the groping in the alley that Redfield had mentioned.

His hand closed over one of her breasts in the dress, kneading. Hers slid right into his pants to grip his ass. Somebody grunted, somebody cursed. The damn dress was like Fort Knox, Leon thought with anger, he couldn't even get to her tits in it.

Jill broke the kiss, gasping loudly, "Come upstairs with me. Ok? Upstairs. Just…"

SHIT.

He stepped back, shaking. She blinked, watching him.

And he said, "Nope. No. First date. No. Redfield's up there right?"

Oh.

OH. Naturally. Of course. This was HER rule, the dating. No humping. No. Just dating.

And it would be cruel to bring him up there with Chris there. Of course, it was cruel. She shook herself, nodding, "Sorry. Right. I'm sorry. Just…I'm gonna…bye."

She ran up the steps.

He put his head against the wall and rapt it there, lightly, muttering, "…you're a good dude. You're a good dude. You're a good dude."

Jill clambered into her apartment.

She closed the door, leaning on it to gasp and jump. Because a voice said, "Good date?"

With a squeak, Jill answered, "Yep. Yes. Hah. Yeah. Jesus. It's Friday night. Why aren't you out?"

Chris laughed and set down his nachos on the table as he wandered in from the kitchen, "You know me. I'm not a Friday night hittin the clubs with the hos and the homies type of guy."

He flopped on the couch with a beer and the remote. "You wanna watch Star Wars with me?"

Lord.

This was her life.

Romance in the stars with dirt in her boobs and space wars.

She eyed him. He lifted a brow at her.

"Sure. Why not? Let me got get changed."

Chris nodded, sipping his beer. "Jill?"

She was almost to her room. She leaned back to look at him. "Yep?"

"You look beautiful."

She couldn't think of a single time he'd ever said it to her. Ever. And he never said anything he didn't mean.

Jill held his gaze. She smiled, softly. "Thank you. I'll be right back."

Chris leaned on the couch, sighing. She came back in sweatpants and a t-shirt with Howard the Duck on it. She took the beer he'd opened for her and tucked her knees up on the couch with her. "Jedi."

"Yeah?"

"You kidding? Yeah."

"Done."

He leaned back on the couch beside her. She sipped her beer. The movie started throwing the familiar theme song around them. It flickered over her face and Chris said, "Jill?"

"Hmm?"

"You still look beautiful."

She rolled her neck. He smiled, lightly, "Yeah. I meant that one too."

They held eyes. She shifted a little and leaned her head on his shoulder.

And they watched Jabba the Hut prepare for the ass kicking of a lifetime as Luke Skywalker wandered into his fortress.

Romance, she mused, it hit you in a hundred different ways.

And every single one was as wonderful as the next.

They shared nachos. They laughed. The watched the movie and fought about the purpose of Lando Calrissian.

Princess Leia started kicking butt in her bikini and Jill mused, "I would probably pay good money to look like that in a bikini."

Chris laughed, loudly, and had her lifting a brow. "What?"

"Jill…" He shook his head, "You look better. TRUST ME. You look…" He laughed again, sighing, "….it's better."

Jill watched his face, wondering, "I was kinda fat after puberty."

Chris snorted, rolling his eyes, "There's nothing fat about you. You women. You think we care about a few extra pounds? Some of us? We like it."

Jill sipped her beer, considering, "You like it?"

He laughed again. "Yeah. I like it. I don't like any one type, Jill. It's just girl dependent. But on you? I like it. You're timeless. Classic. Like a Botticelli chic or something. You're a twelve, Jill. Stop worrying about a few extra pounds."

Again. He never said anything he didn't mean.

She kept staring at him. Chris rolled his eyes from the screen to her face. "What?"

"You think I'm a twelve?"

He shrugged, trying to read her, "Always. I couldn't even believe you'd waste your time on an ugly mug like me to start with."

Jill blinked. Chris added, "Kennedy? He looks good with you. You're both…you know…model types or whatever."

She said nothing, watching him.

And he finished, "My fault – entirely. Since I was stupid about it. But I can hate him for it anyway."

"…for what?"

He shrugged, leaning back on the couch, "Looking like he does I guess. It's what girls want, clearly. A girl like you deserves, you know, fancy shit and romance like that. From a guy who looks like a stupid model. Who are we kidding here?"

Jill kept watching his face.

He added, "As long as he's good to you. Cause you deserve that too. And he realizes that you're not just beautiful, you know, you're brave and kinda quirky and say stupid shit that makes me laugh. And you like to give all your money to homeless people in the park. And you are always feeding the stray cats outside. And you look better in sweats than most girls do in diamonds."

He thought all these things. And he never said them.

Ever.

He was so dumb.

Jill said, quietly, "You bowing out?"

He turned his eyes from the screen. "You want me to?"

She shifted a little on the couch. He dropped the nacho like it was hot and turned toward her. Her hand slid over the back of his neck and his shifted to glide over her knees and rub.

It was kinda a first kiss for them too. Like hers with Leon in the starlight. This? Was kinda their first real one.

Just them. No bad feelings, no anger. No sex.

Just a soft press of lips. One, and again. He didn't throw her down and mount her. He just, let it roll.

They broke apart, watching each other in the flickering light from the television. And Jill said, softly, "No. I meant what I said. We're good friends, Chris. We're good in bed. We're good at being coworkers and partners. We need to do this and find out about the rest of it. Forget what he gives me. Find out what you do. That's what dating is. It's getting to know each other and find out if you're compatible."

She slid off the couch, "Early day tomorrow. I should rack out…" She paused, and turned back at the hallway, "We spent months in this apartment fucking like bunnies. And we never talked. Not like tonight. This? This was a date."

He watched her go and smiled, lightly, "So it was. How about tomorrow I take you to the street fair downtown…and hold your hand?"

Jill smiled, laughing a little, "There ya go. Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks after all. Goodnight, Chris."

Not Redfield.

Just Chris.

It felt better than fucking her somehow to hear it. Because the fucking meant nothing. It was just dicks and holes and emptiness.

The Chris? It meant he was more than just a dick after all.


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N:_** _This is the end of the first part. The love triangle comes to a head here. And we get ready to see the castle in the next part. It'll get weird and uncomfortable and gross. Be ready. All the adorable fluff comes full circle. But the jokes, hopefully, won't die off completely. I don't want this getting too heavy._

* * *

 ** _DISCLAIMER: RESIDENT EVIL IS SOLELY OWNED BY CAPCOM. ALL CHARACTERS USED HERE DO NOT RESEMBLE ANYONE LIVING, DEAD, OR UNDEAD. *cough*_**

* * *

 ** _Part One: The Ghosts That Haunt_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Twelve: In Which We Find A Different Date, A Twist of Fate, and An Old Flame_**

Dating was, possibly, the most fun she'd ever had. For several months, it was flawless. It was utterly exciting.

One day - pool and darts, playful banter and racing down the highway on motorbikes, and long, long, long kisses in the dying sun.

Another day - spontaneous trips to various "haunted" locations. Over night stays in places said to have ghosts and ghouls and creepies. Picnics in the candle light. And long, long, long kisses on blankets in the warm night.

Never the same thing twice.

Ever.

Chris was all about showing her how extreme life could be. They'd sit in his restored 68 Impala. They'd watch the train coming. He'd gun the engine. Her hand would shoot down and grip his thigh. And he'd time it.

"Five..."  
The train horn blowing to signal it's arrival.

"Four." Her fingers curling into his thigh in part dread, part anticipation.

"Three." He turned his head to look at her in the dark of the car. The lights from the train spread over her, spilling around in flickering shadows.

"Two." She squeaked, teeth white and flashing.

"One." The train sounded the horn. He hit the gas. The old muscle car rocketed forward. Jill shrieked with delight and fear. They hit the tracks, the lights from the train through them in sharp relief, it blinded. It was RIGHT THERE.

It passed inches from the back of his car as they flew over the tracks.

The Impala spun out, skidding in the rocks on the other side. Their hearts and laughter were both loud and choking. It was a rush like nothing she'd ever known.

He pulled her over to kiss her breathless.

And that was a whole other kind of rush.

Leon stole her breath by just existing.

He took her up to the top of the highest point in the Arklay Mountains. They had to grapple and rappel and go toe to rock to harness, tied to each other as they climbed.

At the precipice, the air was thin and the clouds shimmering.

She looked across the entire valley. She could see the castle. She could see the world.

There was no end to it, no beginning, just everything as far as the eye could see.

It was a rush like nothing she'd ever known.

He turned her into him. He kissed high above the city that never slept.

And that was a whole other kind of rush.

Chris took her white water rafting. They nearly toppled three times. They nearly died twice. She'd never laughed more.

Leon took her to a food truck festival in Wombat Junction. They binged on shrimp tacos and culinary delights. They listened to local bands and danced in the grass. They did karaoke and curled up on a blanket to watch fireworks.

Chris tortured him mercilessly at work. It was shit duty from one end to the other. It was toilet duty three days a week and working double shifts at the graveyard. It was always been on patrol for the third shift run and working three weekends a month. It was piles and piles of reports and witness statements that Chris was always throwing on his desk.

The rest of the S.T.A.R.S. caught wind of it and started using him like a scut monkey too. It was getting Speyer's truck waxed and washed. It was picking up Frost's dry cleaning. It was Vickers making Leon go to his house twice a day to feed his cat. In an average week, Leon probably only really did three hours of real active police work. Otherwise he was just a bitch boy for Alpha and Bravo team.

He took it all without a word of complaint.

Chris took her downtown to a revival of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Jill dressed as Janet (an oversized men's shirt and plain white cotton panties and bra) and Chris as Brad (which was basically a big blue robe and tighty whities).

She laughed so hard she nearly fell over. They sang and laughed and played along with the live show.

In the lobby, getting drinks, she heard the sharp laughter.

Turning, there was Forrest Speyer and Joseph dressed both as Riff Raff. They were with Pete the rookie dressed as Eddie and Leon.

Jill dropped her soda.

Amused, Pete picked it up. "Sup, Valentine, seen a ghost?"

Nope.

She had, however, seen Leon Kennedy in tiny gold panties. Her face turned pink, and she stuttered, "Hah...not...just...butter fingers I guess."

Speyer shrugged, "Shows great right? My sister is Janet."

Jill nodded, laughing a little, "It's great. I haven't enjoyed it so much since highschool."

She was trying to only stare at the person speaking. She really, really was. But it was literally, tiny gold boyshorts and boots. That's it. That was all of it. The little gold panties were not doing a damn thing to hide what they weren't really hiding anyway either.

Chris wandered over and everyone was just happily blah blah blahing. She was fully aware of the Charlie Brown style talking in her head. It was like listening underwater or something.

Laugh, laugh, laugh...why did his fucking stomach look like that? Her formerly fat best friend running around town with three thousand different toned muscles exposed for everyone to see. It was...well...it was just wrong is what it was. He was going to cause traffic to wreck or something.

The running shorts were bad enough. The barely covered anything to start with. And now this.

He was...well...he was a body flaunting whore is what he was. He was. He just flashing his shit all around town for girls and boys to oogle and chase him around like pervy stalkers. It was totally cruel.

Someone said, "Right, Jill?"

And she realized she had no clue what they'd asked her. But for some reason? Her voice shouted, "I DRANK TOO MUCH SODA AND NOW I HAVE TO PEE!"

And made them all jump.

Horrified, Jill squeaked and spun around, marching toward the rear exit.

She bypassed the bathroom and slipped out the stairwell door to the prop room. She was surrounded by mannequins, old stage pieces and sets, and costumes on dusty hangers. She waved her hand in front of her face and tried to stop feeling the blood in her ears.

After a moment of feeling faint and embarrassed at her inability, it seemed, to be ten feet from a mostly naked rookie, Jill tried to regain her composure.

She could blame her reaction on bad popcorn or something.

The lights flickered, signaling the show was going to come back from intermission. She grabbed the handle to head out and it opened instead.

Her brain said: ...seriously?

And the evil tiny boyshort wearing rookie poked his head in. "Hey, you ok?"

Jill pursed her lips.

He lifted his brows, waiting.

After a long moment, he mused, "Is that a no?"

Hissing, Jill demanded, "What are you...wearing there? What is that?"

Amused, Leon answered, "A costume. Clearly. Why? You don't like it?"

She could hear the laughter from the audience. It was punctuating by the singing, the dancing, the cast pandering to the excited crowd.

She shook her head and turned away, staring at the naked mannequin on the far wall with a hat atop its head that look like Captain Hook.

Leon tried again, laughing a little, "What, Jill? We're missing the show. Spill the beans and stop being weird."

Being weird. Was she?

She was being something.

She probably would have just shrugged it off without any trouble but he touched her arm to turn her around. It was, entirely, his mistake. Later, she'd think it was definitely, probably, totally, completely his mistake.

Jill turned and hooked her arm around his waist. He caught her arms and laughed lightly, "You ok?"

No.

No she wasn't.

No.

She shook her head and shoved him into the heavily bejeweled throne sitting beside a tower of fake armor. She straddled him and he stopped laughing. There was no time for laughing now.

He scooped her hair back to bring her to his mouth. It was gasping and shaking and tongues. The laughter of the crowd was lost as they tried to swallow each other's tongues.

Her brain said: ...this is the wrong date.

So it was.

And so it was also months and months of dating with nothing more than holding hands and alot of kissing.

Her hands went right into his shorts and fisted him. Leon grunted, grabbing a handful of her hair to kiss her like he'd eat her. Jill shook like a leaf, sucking on his mouth until they were both swollen and breathless. Her hand was relentless, slipping over his body like she'd take it with her.

To his credit, he didn't tell her to stop.

She probably would have smacked the shit out of him if he'd tried.

Of course, her rules said no knob slobbering or bicycle riding. It didn't say anything about jerking off. She had to be sure on that. But it felt right.

His grasping hands tugged open the loose buttons of her dress shirt. They found the clasp of her little white bra and let it go. Again, the rules weren't specific on breasts and teeth and sucking. He put his mouth all over her, making her squirm and bow and jerk on him until he was nearly dying.

He'd kinda figured he'd lay her down somewhere and love her. Hell, he'd had a life time to think about it. He'd had lifetime to picture her response. Soft, needy, she'd bow into his hands like a beautifully played instrument.

Instead?

He was buried mouth deep in her tits and thrusting his fingers into her with her panties pulled to the side like a horny kid.

But sure. Whatever.

Most guys knew when to just go with it.

Their mouths popped apart. He played his fingers into the creamy heat of her almost lazily.

She slapped a hand on his collarbone and pinned him against the throne. His hand slid out of her, it trailed over her her thigh. Eyes riveted on each other, he slid his down to join hers where it gripped him. She made a small eager little sound and angled him at her body.

A better guy might have stopped that too.

He gripped her around the hips and jerked down on him.

Effortlessly, their hands slid off, her panties slid wetly against his invading shaft, and he jerked her down to seat himself inside her so hard it brought her mouth open on a scream that he swallowed with his mouth.

They moved like racehorses. They slapped and rolled. She bounced and jerked and gasped. He threw her half over the back of the throne and nailed her so hard he was surprised he didn't break her.

Her hands slipped down to grip his ass in those shorts and shove him into her like she'd kill herself.

It was so quick. It was desperate. It was flash and gasp and sizzle. They burst together after a handful of minutes, grunting, shaking. He pinned her there to grind himself in her and she jerked, scrambling around him, humping to take it. She came around him, spasming, soaking his lap with it - like a predator scenting the kill, he drilled her through it while she bucked and died.

He plowed her until he was so close that it was red flashing danger signs around them. He pulled out a second before he went and grunted with denying himself the utter completion that would have been laying claim to her like that. Unfortunately for the gaudy throne, it got the full force of his blue balls. Since it was about eight years of waiting to fuck her, he figured the blast of it should have thrown the damn thing over and sent it into the far wall.

When it was done, he slid off her and collapsed in the chair. She slumped against the throne and nearly fell to the floor.

Her thighs quivered.

And her brain said: ...wrong date, you asshole.

She put her hand to her mouth, "...oh god."

He said nothing.

She rose, shaking.

She put her hand to her red face, swaying a little, "Oh...ok. Ok. Shit."

Again? Nothing from him.

So, that had happened. It was done. It had happened. There was nothing to do for it now but to just...deal with it. She'd fucked Leon Kennedy on her date with Chris.

That's what happened.

She did that.

She was that girl.

Jill put a hand to her mouth, "...I'm a whore."

Well, she was. It was ok to say it. She was a total whore. He turned her into his arms and she clung, shaking. And his voice was firm and low, "No. Stop it. Stop it, Jill. They call it passion for a reason. It doesn't make you a whore. It makes you a woman who followed her needs."

She clutched at him, shaking her head, "I have to tell him. I promised we'd do this honestly. I have to tell him."

Leon tilted her face up to him. And he whispered, "I'll tell him, Jill. Ok? He already hates me. I'll take the hit for it."

She shook her head. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It went on so long that they finally pulled apart to breathe.

And she let him go. "I'll...handle it. I'll do it. I'm sorry. No for...not for the sex. But for the situation. Yeah. I'm..ok...I should go."

She started to flee and he caught her wrist to drag her back. It was groping and sucking and gasping for another few minutes before she extricated herself with a sharp laugh. "...hah...jesus...stupid gold panties...you plan this?"

He laughed as she fled, shaking his head.

She ducked back into the theater. Chris looped an arm over her shoulders as she crept up to her seat beside him. The cast on the stage broke into song and she squeaked, softly, feeling guilt burning her ass like spicy tacos finding their way back into the world. "I slept with Kennedy."

So...maybe that wasn't EXACTLY how she'd planned to tell him.

He studied her face. She studied his back.

She waited.

And he turned his head to finish watching the show.

He said nothing to her. They loaded up in the car to drive back toward Raccoon City.

Still nothing.

In the dark of the cab, she finally shouted, "Let me have it! Please! You're killing me here! I'm sorry! I'm so stupid! It was an accident."

Ok. Now that just sounded stupid.

But she'd said it. So she stuck to her guns.

He didn't look angry, which scared her a little. And when he finally spoke, it was soft, "It happens. Sex? It happens. Hell, I took advantage of you that first time with us, so who am I to judge really?"

He was being reasonable?!

She was...vaguely insulted. Something.

"...ok..."

"But it's not a free ride here, Jill," He rolled up to her new apartment and stopped the car, turning in his seat to look at her, "You planning to sleep with me too?"

Shit.

Jill considered him in the dark. "...are you ok with that?"

Chris laughed, looking amused somehow, "Why not? Not much for sharing though. So, you start sleeping with him and me? I start sleeping with other women too."

Wait...what?

Jill blinked. She blinked again, "What?"

"You heard me. It cuts two ways here, kid. We're just casually dating and screwing? That means I'm able to screw whoever I want too. It's one thing just dating and knowing you're sucking his face all the time. You're asking me to be ok with you sucking his dick too. And that? That comes with a price."

What was interesting about this moment, was that she didn't want to share either of them. She was a hypocrite. Because she wanted to be able to fuck them both and have them only fuck her. It was asinine. It was immature. It was stupid and selfish and cruel.

And it was true.

"...I don't want you fucking other women."

Chris laughed, lightly and shrugged, "Sorry, kid. There's no negotiation here. It's either fair trade or goodbye. I'm not a cuckhold here, Jill. I won't sit here twiddling my thumbs while you fuck rookies and toss me a kiss occasionally. A few months ago you were my girl, now you're not even fucking me. It's a far fall for a guy like me. I love you, I'll ride it out and wait. I'll do it your way. But I won't sit around at home while you fuck Leon Kennedy behind my back. That good of a dude, I'm not. Maybe he is. But I'm not."

He rolled across her and grabbed the handle of her door, shoving it open. "Think about it, decide."

"Where are you going now?" Quiet, watching his face in the dark.

"Ah. Nunya, kid. Isn't that what you're always saying? Nunya." He waited. She felt cold in her chest.

She turned and slid out of the car. She didn't slam the door, she left it hanging open. And she ran up the stairs to her apartment without looking back.

It was the first time he watched her run and kinda felt nothing.

He rolled down to J's Bar, ordered a shot of Jim Beam and two beers, and prepared to get wasted.

The night dragged on, he was four beers into a sixer. And a long pair of legs sat down at the bar next to him. He turned his head. He lifted a brow.

And the very blonde woman on the stool next to him echoed it.

Slurring a little, he mused, "Where the hell did you come from? You've been missing for months."

And Alyssa Ashcroft answered, quietly, "Does it matter? I think we're both here for the same thing."

Chris tossed back his last shot of whiskey and rose. She echoed the move in the little red dress she wore that was mostly silk and nightie. She wondered toward the bathroom, her short blonde hair perfect coiffed around her flawless face. She looked over her shoulder, smirking, "You coming?"

Not yet, he mused, but he would be soon enough.

He followed her into the bathroom.

Heather and Vicki were sitting at a table near the pool tables. They locked eyes. Rebecca Chambers eyed them from the dart board.

And the three of them knew exactly where they were headed now.

* * *

Jill sat in her bathtub, looking at her toes in the bubbly water.

What a night, she mused, watching the candles gutter on her sink.

Sweaty fucking in a storage room with one man. Careless threats in a darkened car with another. And a bubble bath in the dark for the girl stuck between them.

In all fairness, he wasn't wrong. Chris had as much right to fuck other girls as he'd ever had. She didn't own him. It had been her decision to just date. She'd broken her own rules to get plowed like an Idaho potato field.

And now he was out there plowing some bar skank to teach her a lesson.

Was she jealous?

Kinda.

There was a little knock on her front door. Curious, she rose from her bathroom and looped her robe around her as she moved into the living room and looked in the peep hole.

She opened the door and leaned on it, brow lifted, "It's midnight, Officer. Am I being too loud?"

Leon smirked. At least he wasn't in little gold boyshorts anymore. He was in a polo shirt in pretty green and jeans. "Depends on what you were doing. Your neighbors had some complaints."

"Did they? Over the bath I was taking?"

"Hmm." He tilted his head, "How'd it go?"

"Great. He's out getting laid as we speak. So, apparently that's what you should be doing as well. If I fuck you, he fucks whoever he wants, so I'm guessing that's your plan here too."

And now he arched a brow, "Is it? Am I Redfield now? I don't recall my DNA changing, but maybe I went to sleep and woke up a neanderthal with less class than a washed up stripper. You never know."

Jill laughed lightly and stepped back to let him in.

She closed the door behind him and sighed, "It's fair right? It's fair."

"Logically," He tucked his hands into his back pockets and rocked on his heels, "I'm not interested."

Curious, she met his eyes, "What?"

"Nope. Not interested. Haven't been in awhile. I just want you Jill. That's it. I thought I was clear on that."

The candles on her bookshelf flickered prettily. She lifted her hands to the robe and untied it. Her heart sped up, beating hard and fast in her ears. "My bath water is getting cold."

He didn't bother to look away. "A shame. How bigs the tub?"

"Big enough."

They held eyes for a long moment. And he said, "I don't want to fuck other girls."

In case there was some confusion. In case she needed to hear it.

She whispered, "...I don't want you to fuck other girls."

Why?

She stared at his face. She waited for the truth. It came out of her mouth as a small breath, "...I would be jealous."

No kinda about it. She would just hate the girl in question. She would just..."I would take a shit in a paper bag and put it on her porch and light it on fire."

He blinked. She blinked.

And he said, "If you fuck Chris Redfield again, I'm gonna stuff my sweaty gym shorts under the seat of his car on the hottest day."

"...yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll leave hate filled post it notes on his desk anonymously."

JIll felt her face split into a grin. "Oh?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm tough like that. I'll probably spread a rumor that he's a transsexual."

Jill's hands started shaking, "Hmm. That's pretty passive aggressive."

"Oh, girl, we clearly haven't met before. I'll put dog shit in his boots while he's on the mat. I'll put his phone number on a billboard down on Liberty Avenue." Liberty Avenue was where the entire gay population of Raccoon City went to enjoy themselves without censure.

Jill nodded, sagely now, "I see. If you start sleeping around on me, I'll piss in your water bottle."

His mouth twitched but he nodded.

"As for her? Well, I'll put NAIR in her shampoo bottle. I'll lick all the cups in the cafeteria when I see her go to get food. I'll put condoms all over her car and park it right in front of the station."

His hand shifted. It slid up her torso and palmed her breast, weighing, thumb stroking until her nipple peaked. "What are you saying here, Jill?"

Her hands lifted to his face, cupping it. His cupped her breasts in both hands to play with her. And she whispered, "I think I'm saying what you're saying here."

"Are you?"

They touched mouths, gently. And she breathed, "I should be jealous like that of him, right?"

"Yeah. You should be jealous like that of him." He parted the robe and groaned, looking pained, "Jill...JILL...you look like a goddess. Stop playing me. Pick me, and let's do this thing."

She watched his face and loved him. She just did. It was impossible not to. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She felt his fingers delve into her, testing. And she breathed, "Leon...it's always been you. Always. You just got there before I did..."

His mouth brushed at hers, tasting her, "...but I never gave up on you, Jill. Ever. I'm tired of waiting. Pick me, Jill. And let me love you."

"Leon...yes." An easy answer. Finally.

His arm hooked under the robe and dragged her in. There it was again, Jill thought madly, like lightning and fire and something else. He jerked the robe off her. She scrambled his shirt over his back. His boots went flying and he kicked off his jeans.

She leaped around his front and let him carry her.

They bypassed the bath tub all together.

It was bed and rolling and touching. It was mouth and hands and eyes and taking.

She couldn't remember anymore what she'd been fighting so hard against. But she knew now what she was fighting to hold on to.

He anchored her. She gripped his hair to hold his face to her and kiss him. He shifted a hand to her hip to jerk her with him as they lost rhythm.

As the knock sounded on her door, loud and fast.

And she came apart with him plunging madly between her legs.

Jill shouted, bursting apart, as he anchored her arms over her head and finished, firing like a piston into her body to pump her full of his own release. She clutched him desperately, he rolled her hips to swirl them together, and they collapsed together - panting.

Leon lifted his mouth to kiss her, slow and sloppy.

And the door knocked so hard it startled them both.

He rolled off her. She grabbed a big terry cloth robe from the door and hurried toward the door. He emerged after her in his jeans and with her pistol.

Jill reached to look up in the peep hole and Vicki shouted, "Jilly! Honey! You wanna open this door RIGHT now!"

Jill did, sharp and fast. "What is it? Are you ok!?"

Vicki shook her head. Rebecca was beside her, wide eyed. And Vicki whispered, "So...your wife showed up at J's tonight."

Leon jerked in surprise. Jill blinked, "What?"

"Oh yeah. She showed up. She took Redfield into the bathroom." Vicki paused, looking scared. Why scared? What were they missing? "She came out with him. But he...something was wrong, Jill. Not like a guy who just got fucked. Well...definitely like a guy who was fucked. She left with him but he looked like a doll or something...he was dead in the eyes."

Rebecca whispered, "He just...followed her."

Jill kept standing there. And finally, Leon asked, quietly, "What did she say?"

Vicki met his eyes, she shook her head. She was pale and scared, but she answered, looking at Jill, "She said you'd know where to find her. She said...you've always known. She said...he'd be waiting for you there."

Jill stood there for a long moment. She breathed. The night was suddenly cold and aching in her bones.

Leon took her hand, he turned her to look at him. "What does that even mean, Jill?"

She stared at him, cold, and shaking now. "It means he's in the castle. She's taken him to the castle. And I have to get him back."

The place had been calling her all her life.

And it was time to gather up her courage, and face whatever waited there to claim her.


	13. Author Note

**A/N:**

I've decided to split this story into two parts. I'll post the other part in it's own story. It goes for easier reading that way. Thank you to everyone who reads anything I write.


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